I Broke It
by Sparkopilite
Summary: After Quinn's life altering summer returning to McKinley will certainly be an experience. Couldn't find an action rating. Will be a little Fierce, lots of Quintana and Quick friendship. I own nothing.
1. Chapter 1

Today hurts, that's the only way to describe it. My eyes ache, I'm sweating like a motherfucker and my stomach is churning. Basically it's like the worst hangover ever. I try to sit up, but that is way too much effort. So I just lie there and moa. Looking around I'm pretty sure I'm in Brittany's room. The bed shifts and suddenly Brittany is leaning over me. What the fuck, how did I not notice her there, oh she's speaking guess I should see what's she is doing here, other than creeping me the fuck out with her intense staring.

"Hey babe, what do you remember about yesterday? "

Babe? Shit. Clearly I'm missing something important.

"um... I... We... Picnic?"

"yup, that was lunch. Do you remember anything after that?"

Fuck off given this hangover (it has to be a hangover, huge amounts of piss is the only explanation for Brittany and I in this single bed together) I'm proud to know my name right now. Shit, I just zoned out and now she is looking at me all weird. "Quinn? You ok? After yesterday there will be ... Problems. So, ah, tell me if you are feeling, I don't know. Off I guess"

"Problems, you mean like Santana murdering me for sleeping with her girlfriend?"

"Ex"

When I look back, that is the word that marks the end of my neat life.

I remember. I remember Brittany calling me. I remember her tears on the phone asking, begging more like for me to meet her at the park.

Yesterday

I'm sitting there at a crappy wooden table. In a crappy park, next to a crappy little playground in the middle of a crappy field. Brittany is late and guess what? I'm in a crappy mood. Mum is drinking already today and it isn't even noon yet. I look at the table it's covered in obscene graffiti and I'm considering adding to it if Brittany doesn't show soon. I've decided on Finn sux balls and I'm thinking it'll go pretty well next to the engraved cock. Just as I find a pen I hear a noise. It's a quiet rumble that quickly turns into a roar as a single motocross bike rocks up. Normally these guys travel in packs for the extra attention. I'm apprehensive as it stops next to my table and the rider kills the engine. They pull off the helmet and shake out long blonde hair.

" Holy shit! Brittany?"

What the fuck is she doing in control of a motor vehicle, I mean as much I like her she is a bit too simple for me to feel comfortable letting her near machinery.

"Hey Quinn," she says after leaning her bike against the table, " thanks so much for meeting me on short notice. I didn't have anyone else to turn to."

"What about Santana?" surely she would go to her girlfriend with any problems. Santana has gotten so much more supportive since she came out. Shit she is even there for Kurt and Rachel's problems. Shit. Yep, I can see the tears forming in her eyes even as she says it.

"She dumped me, she said something about how there was no way she could trust me after."

"After what Brit?"

"After, after," her shoulders slumped, "After I abused her trust by never letting her know me."

What? I'm confused Brit is sweet and simple, she would never deceive Santana. I'm clearly missing a vital point of this story but I open my arms and hug her motocross gear and all. She sobs into my shoulder and we stand there awhile in the quiet park.

Finally she stops. "Anyway, I came to you cos you are the best person I know at just ignoring and denying shit, and for today at least I just don't wanna deal."

"Um ok."

"So I bring sandwiches, and then after I thought maybe I could teach you to ride my bike."

"sandwiches yes, bike hell to the fucking NO."

There is no way I'm letting a simpleton get me on a death trap, I watched Xgames with Puck when I lived at his house. Travis Pastrana dislocated his spine on that shit. Fuck that. And what was that about me being queen of denial? I'm about to rip into her when I see the tears she is just holding back.

"I'll think about the bike after the picnic ok?"

She smiles shakily, "PB and J ok?"

"Sounds good"

She pulls off her armour and untucked the top, catching a pair of cling wrapped sandwiches before they hit the ground. Awesome, looks like squashed stomach sweat sammies for lunch.

The sandwiches are long gone and we have gotten bored watching clouds. She is looking at the bike, but I have doubts. Big ones.

"Hey Brit, don't you need a license for that?"

"Nope, it's off road recreational. Besides I have a full for car, bike and heavy vehicle."

I'm confused as to how, because as far as I knew she wasn't allowed behind the wheel of anything. Something of my confusion must have showed on my face because she elaborated. "Look it's a long story, I'll tell you sometime but, Santana found my license and that's where the questions started"

Her lip quivers and she looks down, I don't push it.

"So, bike?"

Fuck. I'm stuck now.

"sure"

It took about an hour but I got the hang of it. I'm now zooming about the kiddie park at a solid 10mph. She is right this is the shit. I look back at her and she waves back. I'm glad her helmet fit but it seems to limit my vision a bit.

I decide to show off a bit and cut closer to the playground. Shit there is an old bit of concrete foundation hidden the grass. I panic and go for the front brakes smashing the accelerated in my panic. I hit the lump at considerably more than 10mph and fly forward off the bike and into the base

of the side. There is searing pain, then nothing.

Present

Brittany is still there just watching me. Her blue eyes staring straight into mine watching me process the day before. I rip the blanket up. I realize two things at once, the first being all I'm wearing is briefs, briefs that are stained with blood down the side. Above that side is the second thing that caught my attention. Stitches. A fuckton of stitches. Brittany gets up and grabs a t shirt from her drawers while I'm still shitting it about my side. Being pretty much naked in my best friends' ex's bed is small potatoes next to the 100+ stitches running in a jagged spider web from armpit to hip. She pulls off the cover and passes me the t shirt. I vaguely register it as a school PE top before she says

"We need to have a little chat."

This time when I try to sit up I can. It is insane pain but somehow I know it should be more. As the blanket slips to sit at my waist I see four equally spaced puncture marks in a squared about a half inch wide under my left breast.

"Fuck, the last thing I remember is coming off. Why am I not in hospital, does my mum know where I am, what happened to me? How many stitches is that?"

I look at Brittany, she seems calm. How the fuck is she calm? I take a deep breath to start asking more questions and her eyes flick down before she looks at the wall.

" if you put that shirt on I can start trying to answer your questions."

Once I struggle through that Herculean task I clear my throat to indicate she can look back. After that first outburst I'm freaking out. If I got stitches I went to hospital , I'm 17 so mum would have had to sign me out for the discharge so why am I here. Here being half naked in Brittany's bed. I look at her and see that she at least has pjs on.

"The first thing I need to say is sorry, I never meant for any of this to happen. I'm going to make this as easy as I can for you, but I won't lie there is no way it's gonna be easy."

"What..."

"Quinn, this is gonna take a while and it would be good for you to just listen. Ok. So I guess the start would be my lie to Santana."

As she says this she sits back at on the bed facing me but not really looking at me. I nod for her to continue because if I want answers clearly I have to do this her way.

"I'm smart, like insanely smart. Haven't you ever wondered why I've never been held back? I guess being blonde helped ah, distract people from that but really, it should be obvious something is up. Recently I started being as stupid as possible but even then, Santana just supported me and everyone else just mocked me. In reality I had a high school level by the time I was 7, college by 11 and I'm about a year or so off my pHd in genetic modification. The point I'm going for here is that when I saw you dying,"

"There is no fucking way I was dying, I have stitches and a headache!"

She shakes her head " You were dying Quinn, your skull had a dent, your ribs were split like a ripped fence and I had to push your digestive system back into the hole in your side. Grossest thing ever by the way. But, we are friends, you gave up your plans to help when you didn't know what was wrong, you have always been there for me. I panicked I'd forced you onto that bike. I didn't want you dying because of me. So I saved you."

"Saved me how?" it's official Brittany is insane. It is the only possible explanation, well that or I'm high as fuck tripping on hospital grade pain killers.

"I um, fixed your ribs and stitched your side up. Then maybe sort of ..." she trails off and looks at the ground.

"Sort of what, Brittany?" I'm starting to get the feeling this isn't a poor taste practical joke. Shit she is still staring at the floor, "what the fuck did you do?" I start hyper ventilating, I'm working my way to a full blown panic when she looks up startled at my condition. She moves quickly, pushes me onto my back, leans over me and starts kissing me. She pushes her tongue into my mouth owning the kiss. With her hands running through my hair, her breasts pushed into mine I forget my side and her crazy story. If I'm being totally honest in that moment I couldn't tell you my name. It is the single most intense moment of my life.

She pulls back and looks at me. It's weird, I have never thought of her or any chick that way, but I'm less freaked out than I think I should be.

"Sorry, I just can't afford for you to panic. It was the easiest way to distract you. But just please don't freak out." my panic is starting to rise again, but I'm not ready to be taken advantage of again so I squash it. She is watching me closely now. But really it now seems so surreal that I don't think I'm gonna freak again.

"I sort of maybe injected you with the experimental FXS8 that I am basing my pHd off. My pHd that is being funded by a military science program."

"I don't get it"

"Um we, and by we I mean the research program I've been working with to develop 1-8, we have been working to make super soldiers."

WTF? "Super soldiers...?"

"You know smarter, harder, faster, stronger?" I must still look confused because she sighs, "Basically better. But the problem is it is all totally experimental."

"So... Now what?" now I'm feeling ill, I can tell from the way she has been looking at me there must be more to this.

"Well, we have to keep it hidden because we are years away from human trial. But also the problem is we don't know any of the effects for sure, we predict that most subjects are most likely to suffer heightened aggression and sex drive. That's good in a soldier, but gonna be terrible for you. The kicker is though, the news laws that are gonna be written about this shit, they are gonna classify altered people as ah, subhuman."

Fuck, yesterday I was head cheerleader today I am fucking subhuman. Fuck.

"You will be ok, but it's going to be a few changes in your life, biggest one being your gonna live here now."

"what?" I like my house, my mum let me move back in, it's strained but still.

"And will really kick in."

"Woah, slow down you can't control my life like this." I don't like this I want to pinch myself to wake myself up, this has to be fucking bullshit. I start to hyperventilate again. This time Brittany isn't quick enough and I start to seize and thrash. For the second time in two days my world goes black.

I open my eyes, I don't recognise this room. It's warm and white, the only lighting is a commercial fluorescent fitting directly above the bed. Bed might be an exaggeration as its more like an operating table. I go to roll over and realize I'm strapped down to it. There is straps over my ankles, wrists, a large one over my hips and an additional one on my right upper arm to keep it still. It seems to be to prevent me jerking the drip out of my arm.

I hear a noise to my right and look over, turns out the room I'm in is split in two by a set of bars, sort of like the drunk tank. The noise is on the other side of the bars. It's Brittany at a computer, I can't make out what's on the screen she is working on, the secondary one has Facebook up. She turns around "And right on time, fuck I'm good at this game," she grins " there has been some changes, as I'm sure you have noticed." she waves indicating the cell and bed I'm in. "Welcome to your new room. You live here now. Your life belongs to me."

"What!" I scream and thrash. The straps give a bit but hold for now. She trying to look sorry but I'm not buying it. "You have been in an induced coma for a month. In that time you got classified as subhuman, I got clearance to own you and got custody off your mum due to my unique position of being able to watch you at school and sedate or restrain you at need. If you were wondering your mums gone to Florida or some shit."

That's it. Words can't describe my anger at this. I tense everything and just move. The straps rip and I'm reaching through the bars trying to grab her. Don't know what I'm going to do once I have her but I can tell you it'll fucking hurt.

She is now leaning against the bench completely calm. There is no way I can reach her and we both know it. I sit down on the now fucked bed, my world is fucked. I finger one of the straps that I snapped like cotton thread. It's a half inch thick. "I don't understand how this happened, I had it all. I was happy and healthy and lived at home and"

Brit cuts across me with "And now you are not even a person," she gives me a sad smile, "the sooner you come to terms with the new restrictions of your life, the sooner you can get over it and rejoin society."

I turn away and lie back down on the bed facing the wall.

"I'll be back later, I guess that's enough for now." she leaves, turning the lights off as she goes. I shut my eyes and pretend I'm anywhere else. I fall asleep thinking of sunny days on the football pitch cheering with Santana.

I wake up and sigh, not a shit dream, I am still lying on a bed in a cell. I give a mental shrug at least I'm alive, I could be dead, or in a wheelchair, or a vegetable. But instead I'm lying on a shitty bed in what appears to be Brittany's basement. I remember my side and rub the skin under the t shirt. I can feel the scars. But no stitches. I'm bored. And if Brittany is to be believed I've been sleeping for a month solid anyway. With that thought I get up and swing my legs off the bed, without the adrenaline pumping I'm a little shaky standing but I can deal. With my hands in front of me I stagger to the bars.

"Brittany," I call, "I'm ready to talk now." I repeat myself louder and louder until I hear a noise outside the door. I sit back on the bed and wait for her to open the door. The light goes back on before the door opens. Weird. The door opens slowly and I can see a tazer in Brit's hand as she comes back in. She shrugs sheepishly, "just making sure you weren't waiting under the desk"

"Brit those inch thick steel bars are a wee bit of a deterrent don't you think?"

"I have no fucking idea anymore."

Oh. As I process this information she sits and watches me. "Can I tell you my plan for not fucking up your life anymore than we can help?"

"sure."

"well you missed the last few weeks of school, so we have a few months to sort this out. Basically everyone at school was told you're in a medically induced coma. You don't need to talk to them 'til you go back. And with enough exercise and a weekly drip to halt the effects of the serum."

"so..."

"Basically, you will live in my basement for the next year or so. Gonna get no privacy because there is a camera in here, but hey could be worse. Once we get you stabilised, no mood swings and figure out any side effects we can turn the cameras off. Maybe even decorate in here. By the time school starts again you should be close enough to normal for things to be ok." she pauses, she wavers, then she breaks. Her shoulders slump forward as she leans back against the door. Her body starts shaking so she hugs herself trying to suck it up. "I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry. " I pause because I hadn't thought of the guilt she had been carrying. She is full out bawling right now and even through my anger and fear I don't feel right just watching. I walk forward and stick my arms through the bars. "Come here, I won't bite," she looks up with a weird mix of relief and fear on her face. I can sort of guess what she is thinking but to be honest my life was fucked before. I can't say happy about my new situation but at least I'm alive. She seems to care, and fuck she can't be a worse care giver than an absentee alcoholic.

I sigh because she hasn't moved towards me, she has just sort of fallen on the ground and is crying harder in foetal position. "look I promise not to murder you. Just come over here and get a hug so I don't have to break these bars to shut you up," I grab the bars and pretend to pull, "nope these seem solid, you will have to come here for a hug."

She surprises me when she unlocks the cage steps in and shuts the door.

"Seriously how don't you hate me?"

"Well to be totally honest this situation is so fucked I can't totally believe it's happening. And you know I feel bad watching you cry, it does screwy things to my insides."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

AN - Super short because I really need to study, and had not planned to update until the weekend. The reviews made me though. Cheers.

Brittany just falls into my arms. She rests her head on my shoulder and just starts sobbing. I'm not really listening to all the sorrys, I am way more interested in her pretty pretty hair.  
"Wow, you smell nice," the words just tumble out of my mouth. She stiffens but I just hold her in my hug. I sniff her hair, I vaguely know I'm being creepy but damn. Her smell is totally intoxicating. Her hands slip slowly down my body in complete contrast to the rest of her body language. With her body pressed against mine I'm not thinking about much.  
Her hand slips between the two of us, I defiantly like where this is going. When her other hand is between my boobs I let her go, give her control to run this show. Suddenly she pushes real hard and I stumble back. Her other hand comes up. I vaguely register a can before searing pain. I bring my hands up and start rubbing my eyes. I'm totally rolling on the floor holding my face. With my eyes and nose streaming I don't notice her leave the cage and then the room.

I do hear her come back in a few minutes later. By now I'm sitting up and am no longer touching my face due to a half remembered story about not rubbing it in.  
"Holy shit!" Brittany exclaims, "you're ok already?"  
Seriously maybe she is retarded, how the fuck is this anywhere near ok? In response to her amazingly stupid question I stand and lurch to the bars thrusting my right arm through swinging mostly blindly for her face.  
"Sorry, from a detached point of view that was a legitimate observation," she stays by the door appears to think for a few seconds. "I think you may be a bit worked up for me to want to do this, so instead I'll give you the container and you can rinse your own eyes ok?" I just growl and swing my arm out again. She slaps a bottle into my hand. "Now just tip your head back and rinse."

I follow the instructions and it's instant relief. I now feel less angry without the insane pain. "Sorry." we both say it at the same time. I try again "what is this" I wave the milk bottle and then gently place it outside the bars. I go back to sit on my bed. Basically I'm trying to be as non threatening as possible.

Brittany laughs, "It's milk and gasoline. Pretty sweet combination. To be totally honest I was surprised you weren't still thrashing on the ground. I was expecting to have to sedate you to clean that shit out."  
"Alright, what was That then?" my voice dropped an octave or so and she takes a step back at the threat in my voice. "Ah, super strength pepper spray, like it has an 80% chance of eye damage and is likely to start eating the eyes if left for more than 10 min". She opens her hands and spreads them wide as a gesture of peace. "I knew on you it would just hurt, but the amount of functionality you had was ridiculous."

I don't know how to react to that. The burning in my eyes was quite possibly the worst pain I have ever felt in my life and she was expecting it to be worse. Not cool. But on the other hand she must have had a reason right? Oh yea, me being a creepy fuck. If I think about it from her perspective then maybe I would have reacted the same.

"Quinn? I'm sorry. I should have asked you to let me go, instead of just panicking. I guess I just freaked," she is watching me again like jockeys watch spooked horses.  
I huff but drop my shoulders and line back onto the bed. "I understand I guess. What I was wondering was why you smell good Brit, god your smell is, is... I don't know intoxicating I guess." She looks at me and just starts to laugh. A proper laugh this time. "Oh Quinn, it had to come out sometime," she laughs harder, but I'm not seeing the funny side. "Unintentional pun sorry, maybe I should have said you had to come out sometime."

"What? Did your fucking science shit make me gay? What the fuck are you on?" I'm not impressed. I am living in a mad scientists basement cage. I can feel me getting mad again.

"No, I didn't make you gay. You can't make people gay anymore than you could make yourself straight. I guess I'm just finding the fact that you are flipping out over something that has been pretty obvious for the last few years rather than the fact we can play Lego with your toes."

Fuck, she is using her usual diversion tactics again but instead of unicorn stickers I have to deal with either the fact that she thinks I'm gay or the creepy connotations of toe Lego. I pick neither. Fuck her mind games, fuck her sense of control and fuck her. Mmm fuck her, those long toned legs, sexy flat stomach, her piercing blue eyes... Maybe she has a point. I clench and relax my hands and think about getting maced. I count back from 10 and open my eyes at 1.

"I don't want to think about that. What I would like is to have a shower some clean clothes and some food. I know you said I'm not a person but I'm asking super nicely see?" These milk covered clothes are shit and I'm starving.

"Quinn you are totally a person, an awesome cooler than a Unicorn person, the only subhuman thing is your classification, and all that means is hospitals won't touch you, cops will totally just beat you then chuck you out of the drunk tank, and you may owe the army a year of service after high school." She stops and looks at me smiling sheepishly, "It will be our secret. School will be sweet."

By this time I have noticed some serious avoidance. "Is there any reason you are avoiding the topic at hand?"

"Well yea... When I bolted, I didn't shut the door properly so it went into lockdown."

I gesture impatiently, and she continues, "That door won't open until this time tomorrow. Sorry. I can totally do clothes and food though. What do you want I can order anything."

I punch the wall and make a little puff of dust, but a pretty good blood smear as it is a bare concrete wall. "Quinn? You ok?" She sounds concerned and I remind myself that she is trying to care.

"I really, really don't want to sleep with milk in my hair. It will be rank as fuck by morning."

She looks around and her eyes fix on a hose, "Do you mind cold?" Well yes actually I do but it's better than nothing.

Three hours later

I'm clean, dry and fed. I Hope to god that I never have to have Brittany hose shower me again. That has to have been the most embarrassing thing ever. She kept saying not to worry because one I'm hot and two she saw it all when I was in a coma anyway. But the point is I'm clean. She left about an hour ago after quoting glee break up party as an excuse. She left a few books, an entire bucket of kfc and a promise to go on a run tomorrow when the stupid auto delay opens. I'm reading on the bed as the lights go out. Taking this as the hit it obviously is I give up and go to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N This was meant to be longer and uploaded yesterday but due to extreme hangover, having to try and fix my flatmates hair with safety scissor because someone ran afoul of a shaver while drinking and the other flatmate destroying our internet connectivity, eh. Enjoy. More soon.**

Brittany is in front of her computer again. The lights are still off but she is sitting in front of the monitors entering data into spreadsheets. At the end of a column she spins on the chair to face me. She looks like shit, eyes bloodshot as like she cried herself to sleep. "Rough night?" I ask. I have realized I have to be nice to her or I may never leave this cell.  
"Fuck up," woah that is an insane level of hostility, I am unimpressed as to where this is going. "Yesterday I promised you a run," what am I a fucking dog? Walkies Quinn, good girl. I'm feeling a wee bit pissed off and it's been less than a minute. "so we are going to go on a fucking run, then we can swap the gurney for a real bed. Then I'm done with you for the day. Deal?"  
"What am I supposed to do all day alone? That's a bull shit deal."  
"It's the only fucking one you're getting, but now I'm thinking just a mattress."  
I stare at her in disbelief, this is rubbish. Then I see how close she is to crying, "Deal. But would it be possible to have breakfast first?"

Her lips twitch, "Well that was a quicker agreement than I expected. Yes you can have breakfast. You can even have a shower after the run," something is off. She looks happier, but the mean happier like when Santana was about to go NATO on people she didn't like. "Just, chuck this ankle bracelet on and we can go."  
And there is the catch, I accept it when she passes it through the bars. It doesn't really look like a bracelet more like a shin pad. It has a click lock on the side. She is still just watching so I click the damn thing on. Before I can ask what it is she disappears out of the room again, just to reappear a minute later with jogging clothes.

"Here, more stuff for you to put on." She thrusts a pair of football shorts and a sleeveless hoodie through the bars. She doesn't look like she will look away so I just change in front of her. Just as I expected she is watching closely, I hadn't anticipated how close however and start to blush under her scrutiny.

"What?" I say after I'm dressed, "internet porn not enough these days? Does Miss Brittany S Pierce need her own private show?"

She gives me the evils, "I was checking the scarring on your side as well as checking you out. Because this is what you will look like for the rest of your life, so forgive me if I was curious. Luckily your smokin' so that won't really be a body crisis issue."

Oh. Now I don't know what to think. I'll be 17 forever? Is that good or bad? I don't have much time to think about it as Brittany has opened the cage and waved me out. She taps a button on the computer and my shin beeps.

"If you were wondering why I was trusting you so much, just letting you jog beside me with nothing but your word to keep you there I'm not. That bracelet will blow your leg off if you get more than 150 metres away from me. It starts beeping at 120, just to give you some warning." She pauses then grins evilly "so better keep up."

We go for about a 20k run. It was insane. I don't think I have ever run that far, I also would never have considered that shit easy. From Cheerio's practice I knew Brittany was fitter than me, but not today. She started flagging at the 15k mark and struggling at 18. When we walked back to her car I wasn't even tired. On the way back from the park she was clearly happier, almost as if she had run off her problem. "Want to talk about it?" I offer. She looks at me and seems to weigh it up internally.

"Sure, ask whatever you want."

So many things. So I start with the obvious. "Santana?"

She turns around and looks at me for a second. Then back to the road. I am very glad of this because there is still a little voice inside my head that is screaming about a certain blonde woman driver.

"I give you free rein to ask anything you want and she is what you pick. Not what is happening to your body, not why I was even at McKinley but Santana."

"Uh yea. When you put it like that it sounds stupid."

"It's not stupid I've seen the way you look at her, let me tell you I would have put the serious Lima Heights smack down on you if you had ever looked to moving out of Narnia."

What... I'm totally confused. Brittany thinks I want Santana? Not impressed. "I, I meant, last night. Was seeing Santana yesterday what put you in such a damn bitchy mood this morning?"

"I guess so. She wouldn't talk to me and I could see her hurting. Which hurt me, which made me drink which made me sad, so I drank more. The cycle perpetuates. Yet. Sorry for being down right evil this morning I had to sweat out my hangover. Also I put rat poison on your Wheaties. Your totally welcome."

"What the fuck, WHY?"

"Two reasons. Firstly because now you are awake you seem to be developing more,"

I look down, they still look the same. Brittany catches the movement and snorts. "moron, I meant strength and endurance wise. At some stage soon we will go into my lab and sort a way to restrict it but for now I'm kind of just going to poison you. And the second reason is that now you're going to make a move on Santana and I don't like it."

She seems really paranoid about this, and to be totally honest I'm not entirely sure she have ever been wrong judging relationships. We sit in silence for the rest of the trip home.

In the front door, down the steps to the left, Brittany unlocks another door and I'm back in the cage. I decide to push my luck, "Hey Brit, Is there any chance I'm allowed in the rest of your house?"

"Not without me. This whole situation makes my parents really uncomfortable. They loved me being smart, but hated me using that intelligence with military research. You, for all intents and purposes are a weapon now, sort of like an attack dog. So no you can't hang in the lounge with my little brother and play Xbox sorry."

Well, Fuck. "But he totally like grounded so we can just steal it and put it down here." She gives a little smile, "because I know you tots weren't rocking the books I leant you."

"How do you do that? Swap from Scientist Pierce to sweet simple Brittany?"

"Practice. Lots and lots of practice. If I wanted to go into the military research I had to go to high school like a normal kid. My parents insisted and legally being a minor I couldn't refuse. They said something about needing the formative years of my life to be filled with normal interactions with people my own age not just orders and test tubes. Remember how I said I got lost in the sewers last summer holidays? working on this stuff. When I go missing for periods at a time? Generally on the phone to someone at the base."

She cracks her neck. "enough about me. Let's get your dungeon sorted out. I have shit I need to be doing today."

An hour later I have a mattress with a bottom sheet and one thick blanket, an old as TV and Tommy's Xbox in my cage. Brittany runs an extension lead, in chucks a pillow and multibox at my head and promises to come back with dinner. I never got the shower she promised but I guess the Xbox is better long term. As it comes to life sounding like a jet engine I realise who I am right now.

Dirty? Check. Smelly? Check. Playing games in a dark room? Check. Not trusted to get my own food? Check. Shit I am totally Finn.

**Thanks to the people that left reviews. Completely awesome.**

* boringsiot will explain more later.


	4. Chapter 4

I'm dirty, hungry and bored. I've never been one for video games as I use them more as a social tool than a solo event. So as I got hungrier and the games got harder I got angry. I tried taking a nap but I'm not tired. I tried a different game but fuck C.O.D. I get bored quickly and start the doing the basic strength endurance test sue made the Cheerios do. Ten push ups at a rate of one per second then ten sit-ups again at one per second. Next round fifteen each, then twenty. By the time Brittany gets back I'm up to a hundred and twenty per cycle.

"Wow you must have been bored." She wrinkles her nose at the smell in here. "This room is gross. Want to go out for dinner?"

I stop mid push up and slowly stand. I'd been doing exercise for ages and I'm sweaty, but weirdly not puffed. Incidentally I think I might be the source of this rooms smell. "Sure. Can I shower first?"

"Please do. Come we are going to my ensuite." She unlocks the cage and hands the ankle bracelet back. I notice that the room door stays firmly shut until I click it on. She holds the basement door open for me. "Move it smelly". As I go past her heading for the stairs she smacks my ass. I file this motion away to think about later. I'm not sure what to make of her new touchy feely behaviour.

It is heaven. I'm clean for the first time in days. I shaved a month's worth of hair off my legs, shampooed my hair, brushed my teeth. Clean. Nothing has ever seemed so good. Looking in Brittany's mirror I can see the scars. They run from my left armpit to hip, huge tears that look sort of like a spider web. In the month I was out they have healed up to an angry pink. I will never wear a bikini again. The door opens and I grab for my towel. Brittany seems to have some mad privacy issues. She throws underwear at me, I pride myself on not catching it and holding the towel.

"Looks like you have hidden some brains in there Fabray, hurry up we are meeting my friend."

I put the underwear on and exit the bathroom feeling somewhat self conscious about my state of undress. "My clothes are in there, go for it," Brit waves her arm at a cupboard on the far side of the room. I enter it and start looking for some of her older clothes, maybe they will be shorter in the leg. Everything in here is so bright. I settle on a gray skirt that looks like it has never been worn, a white tank top and a black cardigan. Suck on that Brittany I found normal clothes in here. Grabbing the walk ins handle I attempt to open the door. "HAHA Quinn you are stuck in the closet."

"Very funny, now can I leave or do you want me to break the door down."

Brit drops her voice "Oh Quinn baby, if you are willing to smash the door down for me I'll be yours All Night Long." I stop touching the door immediately and take a step back. She needs to stop fucking with my head because soon I might actually take her up on the offer, and that would not bode well for either of us. Don't think I would ever focus in Cheerio's again. Can you say dropped?

She notices the hesitation and opens the door. "Just hurry up. It's tots important you meet this guy."

McDonalds. Brittany takes me to meet Chuck at fucking McDonalds. I think she is aiming for me to be the size of a house because she orders me a couple of family meals. Speaking of Chuck he is a nice sweet guy. I was a little nervous when Brittany said she knew him from her research but he seems like a harmless nerd. A lot like Sam if I'm honest, except Sam liked sci fi and football where as Chuck is more interested in making video games real. I zoned out when Brittany and Chuck started chatting, something about biology, limiters and heart surgery. I'm watching the cashier smile and flirt with her customers. How on earth did McD's get someone pretty behind the counter.

"So what do you think Quinn?" Britt's question is out of the blue. "Uh what?"

"See told you she wasn't listening." This is directed at Chuck, "asking her is only like a formality anyway."

"Well if your sure, I mean you have to live with her and ..."

"I'm still here guys. Talk to me not through me."

"Quinn I brought you here so we could have an adult conversation. We spent 20 minutes solid explaining what we were going to do to stabilize you more because I'm pretty sure you don't want to be hooked up you a drip for huge periods of time each week. Chuck has kindly made a kick ass device that will solve most of your problems. And you would rather drool over some random than listen to what will happen."

"But she is pretty..." I whine. Chuck looks amused. Brittany really doesn't. "Sorry. Yes I'll do whatever you're talking about because Chuck seems nice and trustworthy and it's not like you were going to give me a real choice anyway."

Chuck is full out laughing now. "Goddamn, if you will agree to letting us do open heart surgery cos you were perving at her, I really want to see what you would do for a strip-o-gram."

Wait, what? Not cool. Brittany sees the look on my face yells "No Backsees," then hi fives Chuck. That right there made me even more nervous.

AN Working on more right now. Sorry but I spent my weekend playing Lollipop Chainsaw; I have no idea how that game avoided an R18 rating. Insanely fun but I feel dirtier for playing it. Next chapter up tomorrowish.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN This is really the second half of chapter 4. Now I have set most of the base work up things should flow more smoothly.**

It was a Friday night when they did it. And I really want to make a note that singing "Friday Friday gotta get down on Friday" just about the least confidence inspiring thing ever. Closely followed by 'here smoke this huge bag of pot because we can't sedate you'.  
"What? Why not?" this is seeming like a worse and worse plan by the minute. The three of us are standing in my cell, the bed and Xbox pushed into a corner and the hospital bed is back in the middle above the drain. The straps have been fixed and it looks ominous as fuck.  
"Look, I stopped feeding you poison so you will heal really quickly as we aren't qualified to perform surgery in any way shape or form. That means we can fuck up a bit attaching the limiter, but it also means your body will completely process out any sedatives and painkillers we could use. Likewise we can't get you drunk, but that was never really an option because that makes you bleed more."

At this stage Chuck steps forward holding said bag of weed.

"So maybe if you're really high and don't look at what we are doing we can get this done quick and it will heal and then we can all get smashed to black this out," he gives me a small smile. The fact that he isn't super excited about this reassures me. There is no more time to think because Brittany shoves me back onto the bed.

"Just hurry up," I swing my legs up and she starts strapping me down.

"Kinky," I say, just to be making noise and pretend I have a say in this. She gives me a death glare and just keeps going. Ankles, thighs, waist, wrists and across the shoulders. I now have no mobility whatsoever. She slips a mask over my face and instead of anything useful it leads to a pipe end. "Breathe deep baby" We sit there for a while I'm getting higher and higher.  
After a few minutes it stops affecting me as much and they get ready. The higher straps come off, my top and bra come off then Brit puts an operating gown on me backwards so the flaps are at the front. The straps go back on tighter then she tapes the gown down leaving about four inches across my sternum clear. All of this happened while Chuck was staring into his bag, he refused to look up until Brittany cleared her throat.  
"Alright let's do this, in the third alien movie there is a pretty realistic autopsy bit. I think if we do the same as they did in the movie to crack her chest then this should pretty much just hook over her heart, slip the wires into the main arteries then it should attach to the inside of the ribs when we push them shut. Is the plan."  
Holy fuck. They have to be fucking kidding me, they are basing their plan off what they saw in a movie. Not happy. But I'm strapped down and they stole surgical tools from somewhere. Fuck this shit. Brittany removes my mask to slip a chunk of solid plastic between my teeth. With that done the mask goes back on and she tells me to go to my happy place. I take a quick look at Chuck and in that moment I know that he has no desire to be here and this will probably haunt him for ages.

Slice. Don't look down. I don't care how much it hurts don't look down. Slice. keep staring up. Slice. That three. I think that's the Y cut. Ahhh Fuck yes that was the Y I can feel them pulling the flaps open. I can't concentrate on anything. This is the most ridiculous amount of pain. Someone should have told them pot isn't a painkiller. When I feel the bone saw hit my exposed sternum, that's it I'm gone.

"Hey Q, I can't believe we made the squad," Santana is gushing. I don't think I have ever seen her this happy. It's the very start of freshman year, just after trials. We are the last ones in off the field as Sue called the new names last. We have just been presented with our very first Cheerio uniform. To us it's like the keys to the city. Santana rips it out the box and pulls it on. Her hair isn't in a high pony yet, but otherwise she is the perfect McKinley High Cheerio. She spins and I stop opening my box mesmerised. The pleats rise during her twirl and her ass is so fine. The thing that gets me though is her smile. Goddamn does she look happy. At this moment she is pure perfection. Inside and outside just fucking perfect.

I wake up to Brittany's face hovering over mine. She looks relieved when I open my eyes. I notice that Chuck is nowhere to be seen as Brit undoes all my straps. after pulling off the mask and spitting out my fucked chew toy I ask "Where did he go?"

"Well after vomiting up everything he had ever eaten he panicked when you didn't wake up after we pushed you back together."

"Wait what time is it? How long was I out? It only seemed like a couple minutes max."

"It's 2AM, so that makes it like 6 hours. We maybe forgot that the limiter would kick in immediately." we had to wait for you to stabilise like a normal person before we could slowly shut it down. It was real touch and go for a while."

"But..."

"But now you are good, and I can totally let you go for runs by yourself now," She smiles and I remember my dream, I'm going to make Santana smile like that again. I don't care what it takes. I'm going to make her happy. "But I'd rather you avoid McKinley people for now. Way to many awkward questions." Alright I'll postpone my plan till school.

This is the life though. I am totally allowed to leave the house by myself. I can run in the park, swim in the duck pond, fuck I could even get a job like a real person to kill my day. Everything is coming up Quinn. I look down and the Y-incision is only pale pink lines. If I'm being honest it is way less nasty than the scars on my side. "Let's clear this gurney out so I can go to sleep Brit."

Boom baby, I can almost pretend I'm normal for awhile.

**Also I totally dig reviews. They validate my work and make me warm on the inside.**


	6. Chapter 6

Like usual I wake up to the sound of Brittany tapping away on the computer. What wasn't usual was waking up tired and feeling like shit. Recently I've been waking up bursting with energy and bouncing off the walls until Brit takes me for my morning run. I got over being treated like a dog after our little comprise. She doesn't call me Quinnie and yell heel when I get far enough away for my bracelet to start beeping, if I just use the hose to shower down here. Apparently I still freak her parents out. I get that because I don't even know what the fuck my body is doing most days. It's like puberty all over again but way more brutal. I started sweating at weird times, I started noticing girls a lot more and I'm getting huge impulses to act on these urges. I digress, what I really want to know is if waking up feeling like arse is related to the dynamic duo playing operation yesterday.

Before I can ask she spins around with golden hair flying, my breath catches, fuck she is stunning. Her piercing blue eyes hold mine and then I realize what I was thinking. Brittany pierce has piercing eyes, nice one Quinn. I snort and shake my head to clear the image. She raises an eyebrow, "Wha, actually never mind. What I want to know is how you feel."  
"Tired, cranky and sore"  
"Awesome."  
"Alright how the fuck is that awesome?" I really have the worst conversations with her. It's never hi how are you, oh that's no good hope you feel better. Its oh look your fucked that's cool. How about we make that worse. I guess she sees I'm looking angry because she raises her hands in a placating gesture.  
"It's totally awesome because it means the limiter is working. Normally you would just heal up to a ridiculous level, and sleep it off. But now you wake up normally but feel like shit, so hence awesome. The theory is you should heal up quicker if you eat more. That's why you have been eating ridiculous amounts of calories recently, it's been keeping your body in overdrive."  
"So what your saying is after breakfast I'll feel better?"  
She gives me a look of disbelief. "Open heart surgery last night, by total novices in a totally unsterile environment, you were fucking lucky to even wake up after you stopped healing midway through, and your main thought is Breakfast?"  
I plaster the blankest, stupidest look on my face kind of like the one Brittany usually wears at school. "I like breakfast. Rachel."  
She gives me the evils, and I struggle to maintain my bland face. I probably shouldn't provoke her and she does has a point but petty annoyance is sort of all I have going for me. She keeps staring. Then I guess again she decides to ignore it. "Let's get hungry Quinnie some brekkie then. You'd like that wouldn't you. Yea you would. Good girl."  
Well maybe not.

Point taken, don't fuck with Brittany when she hasn't had much sleep. I don't apologize though. Fuck it if I'm not being treated like a person I won't act like one. She leaves and comes back with an entire loaf of bread, a butter knife and a jar of nutella. She thrusts all of them though the bars. "There you go, breakfast is served."  
I look dubiously at what I'm holding. It is all super processed carbs. Pure sugar spread, white bread there is absolutely no nutritional value in any of it. On the other hand if I understood Brit earlier then I'm not going to get fat, just hyper. At this I look up and Brittany, "I can go for a run today right?" I say this around a mouthful of bread, because I was to hungry to wait.  
She is laughing at me, I know it. Still making more breakfast is way better than confirming this. She waits patiently until I am debating whether or not to eat the crusts to answer my question. "Yes you can go on a run by yourself today. But there are still rules. 1, try your best not to be seen by people you know, 2, don't run super speedy so it's not obvious you're super abnormal and I'm going to put this gps tracker in your arm so if anything does happen I can find you. Alright?" there is nothing there I can really argue with so I nod and stick my arm through the bar. In the few weeks since I woke up in this basement our whole dynamic has changed. We have slowly settled into a pretty steady rhythm with each other now though. A quick slice into my arm and she is done. The computer and her phone beeps in recognition of received signal so clearly she had forward planned this. I vaguely wonder if she has ever stalked someone because she would be fucking good at it. I watch with morbid fascination as my arm heals around the tracker. Maybe not as this is pretty invasive.

After my arm is all scabbed up she unlocks the cage and hands me a house key.

"Wow, you sure?" This is fucking huge. Yesterday she wasn't letting me out of her line of site, and even that was with a freaking bomb strapped to my leg.

"Yup." There is a huge shit eating grin on her face, oh fuck I really don't like that glint in her eyes. It's like her eyes have turned into ice. She hits a button on her iPhone and I hear a sickeningly familiar beep, or rather feel the beep because it comes from inside my chest. All the blood drains from my face and all I can do is stagger backwards until I can fall onto my bed. Being a mattress on the floor it's a bit of a fall.

"It's just a warning Quinn. No need to panic. Be back by 10pm and I don't give a fuck what you do so long as you don't get caught." At that she just gets up and leaves. What the hell am I supposed to do? I have a goddamn bomb strapped to my heart. I huddle under my blankets for a while but I cant fall asleep to forget this. Nothing will be normal again. After about an hour I can't take it anymore. I realise I can leave this fucking dungeon, so why the fuck am I here?

Fuck finding shoes, fuck the spare phone she left out for me, I jam the house key in my hoodie pocket and leave. Up the stairs and out the front door without even checking the hallway for her family. What the fuck kind of family raises someone that's ok with putting a bomb in her supposed friend's chest?

I'm seething with rage and I want to hit something. I push that impulse down because I know deep down in my rational mind that if I fuck my new found freedom up Brittany isn't likely to give me a second chance. So I run, I look at the sun in the sky and consciously run away from the light. I don't need light where I'm going.

**AN Does anyone mind these ridiculously short chapters? It's just easier to post less more frequently is all. Review with any thoughts or criticisms, what would you like to see?**

**Also I picked iPhone because apple is clearly evil with its high market share.**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN Puck POV in Italics.**

My feet hurt, they have been bleeding on and off for the last few hours I guess in hindsight I probably should have grabbed shoes. My lungs are burning and my legs are jelly. The sun has started to dip and I realize that I should probably start heading back. I pause and look around with my heart pounding in my chest. It's nice to feel this fucked to be honest. It makes me feel normal and I don't know if it's Brittany's dubious surgical skill or just luck but even with my lungs heaving I can't feel the bomb in my chest. I guess I understand why she did it but fuck it makes me angry. It feels like she may as well be standing behind me with a gun to the back of my head. The way I can run until it hurts comforts me. Just because it took longer than it should of and my feet are starting to heal up again doesn't make me feel any less human. It's nothing at all like being dissected.  
Which I can't quite get out of my mind. Just that feeling of having my skin peeled back sits in the back of my head making me freak out, slowly seeping into my conscious thought until it's all I can think about, I'm hyperventilating now paying no attention to where I'm moving.

_I'm driving my mum's minivan to the shop tonight so I don't have to get up early tomorrow. I called and cleared it with Finn beforehand. I hate this car, it completely kills my street cred and handles like a fucking whale besides. But I'm smart, I'm taking the back roads so no one sees me in this piece of shit. Turning the corner, I'm on the home stretch now baby ain't no one gonna see the puckasaurus in this piece of shit. I get mad sun strike when the cloud shifts and can't see fuck all. I tap the brakes when THUD. Fuck me musta hit a deer. Lucky I was heading to the shop already. Wait... There hasn't been deer around here since I was little._

Bang, I go flying. The road rushes up to meet me but I'm going too fast to give it a proper hug, instead I glance off it, bounce up and come down on the gravel shoulder sliding a bit before I stop. As I lie there in the most incredible pain I decide I must have the shittest luck in existence. I'm thinking about this to avoid looking down. If I don't look it hasn't happened right? I look down. Fuck there is blood everywhere and a lot seems broken. From what Brit has told me over the last week or so if I just lie here I should be fine. But it really really isn't feeling that way. In fact I'm feeling worse and I know I'm hallucinating when I see Puck run up.

"Oh fuck oh fuck. It's a person. I hit a fucking person." Well maybe not. Surely if I imagined Puck he would seem cooler right? I lift my head to look up at him and he some goes paler. "Quinn? How the fuck did I hit you? You're in a coma. Not here. You can't be here." I drop my head back and just chill sprawled on the shoulder.

"Uhhhhhgh." wait that's not right I try harder. "Cahhhl," I cough some blood and try to spit it out but is too hard. By now he has knelt down beside me. Sweet that'll make it easier to talk, also I'm loving having coherent thought right now "call,"

"911, yea I'll call them now you just hang on ok?" he fumbles in his pocket for his phone, shit that is the last thing I wanted him to do.

"nuh, cahl Brit," I cough and try to take a deeper breath, "call brittany" I finally manage to choke out. He stops fumbling for a second, he looks confused. He clearly decides to ignore my request as he is about to hit call for 911. Using all my energy I manage to swat his phone down. It hits the ground and when my clearly broken arm hits soon after it I pass out. I wake up to arguing. I'm not feeling any better and I'm still lying on the side of the road.  
Looks like Brit showed up without being called.  
"just put her in my car and forget about this puck."  
"you're crazy, she needs to go to a hospital. I don't care if I go to juvie over this, im not letting her fucking die."  
"she's fine puck. Just put her in my car and leave"  
"fine, Fine? How the fuck is she fucking fine? You know what every second we argue is a second she doesn't have." I feel arms scoop under me. I can't help it I scream in pain. I see pucks face go whiter but he doesn't drop me. "Don't worry Q, I got you. Gonna take you to the hospital. Get you all fixed up." louder at Brittany "open the back... Why the fuck is there a tarp?" he is starting to sound scared, " did you know she was gonna be bleeding? How..." I miss the next bit because puck put me on the backseat, but the next thing I see is Brit in the driver's seat pulling a fucking gun on Puck when he goes for the door handle.

"I told you to forget this but seeing as you can't get in and shut up." she delivers this speech over a gun that doesn't waver a single millimetre. Poor Puck I'm pretty sure this makes a quarter of glee that Brittany has fucked over. Santana with her lies, me with her science and now Puck with this incident. I'm the only one with visible scars though, lucky me. The boy is shaking and white as he sits down in the passenger side. He leans through the gap and gently takes my unbroken (left) hand. "I am so sorry I failed you Quinn. First I fucken hit you, then I can't even get you to the hospital." Brittany just snorts "your just sad cos now you have to go further for your hookups. Where were you going anyway?" I can see him shaking with rage over how flippant Brit is over this. To be honest this is the first time I have seen her be this much of a cold bitch. With me she generally treated me nicely enough, just not like a person.

"The Hummel garage," he get out through gritted teeth, "I was dropping my mum's car off at the Garage for a service."

"Oh awesome, that makes things like super easy." Just like that Brittany has slipped into her dumb super happy mode. She pulls out her phone and starts calling. She flashes Puck and I with a huge grin before putting on a fake sad voice. Recently I have been wondering about her mental stability.

"F-f-finn? Hi its Brittany. Could you please use Burt's tow truck to pick up Pucks car? We were driving to the garage and he hit Bambi," at that she let out a large sobbing noise, "my mum picked us up so we can give Bambi a funeral. Puck wanted to wait with the car but he needs to dig the grave to make things right... Finn, how will the forest be ok without Bambi?" There is a long pause in which I guess Finn tries to comfort her, then "Thanks Finn, you are like the nicest forest giant ever."

She hangs up with a smug look on her face. I'm just scared that it took her two seconds to deal with the problem. Smashed car covered in blood? No deer body? No problem. Just give her some fake tears and a cute story and no questions asked.

We pull up outside her house. The lights are on and we can hear people inside. This seems to stump Brittany. "Fuck it, we will just wrap her in the tarp and you carry her down to the basement. I'll say hi to my parents then meet you down there in a second."

They get out of the car and wrap the tarp around me while I'm on the backseat hidden from view. I start to scream at the rough treatment I'm getting from Brittany's end, Puck is being nothing but gentle and she is in my face in an instant "Shush," she whispers quietly. Her soft words are the opposite of her actions as she tapes my mouth shut. The tarp gets pulled over my face and I can feel tape being wrapped around it before I pass out from the pain of being picked up.

_Today has been a nightmare. I don't know what I'm doing anymore as I stagger downstairs into Brittany's basement holding Quinn in my arms. What the fuck was with Brittany showing up like that? She just knew Quinn was going to be there and bleeding. And who the fuck can just wrap their best friend up like a slab of meat to bury in the woods? I hold my Quinn package as tight as i dare with one arm while I struggle with the door. I get through and stop again with it swinging shut behind me. What the fuck is this? Half this room looks like a science lab with computers and shit and the other half is clearly a cell. There is a drain in the middle, a mattress and xbox set up at either end. It really looks like some lives in there. The door opens behind me and Brittany steps in. I'll admit it. I am shitting myself right now, there is only one door and she is blocking it. I know she has a gun and I realise I know nothing about her._

"So Puck, welcome to my room."

**AN Dun Dun Duunnnn. Yes that was a dick move. I accept this. Hopefully enjoy it anyway. I'll try not to jump pov too much. Let me know if I should endeavour not to do it at all. **


	8. Chapter 8

**AN Again Italic is Puck POV. This is short as it is more the second half of previous chapter rather than a stand alone.**

_Brittany crosses the room and opens the cage.  
"Just chuck her on the mattress and I'll sort this out," I watch her hold the door but I am to stunned to move. "Urgh, stupid boys, I'll do it." she grabs Quinn out of my arms, staggers under the weight and just drops her onto the mattress like a sack of dirt. I wince at the rough treatment but after the roadside I don't really expect any better. She comes back out of the cage and grabs a scalpel from a bag under the computer bench. Brittany then proceeds to quickly unwrap Quinn by slashing open the tarp until she is just lying in a blue plastic canoe. Looking closely I can see new straight cuts that can only be from careless cuts. This isn't even horror movie shit, there is no malice in what B is doing to Quinn, she just straight up doesn't care that it's a person she is hurting. "Huh, your right Puck. She does seem pretty fucked up. Ah well she'll tots be better by the morning." with that she leaves the cell to go mess with stuff on the other side of the room. I just stare at Quinn, she looks so broken. Fuck it's all my fault._

Brit pushes past me and hooks up a drip to Quinn's left arm. She just duct tapes the line to her arm and the bag to the wall at about head height.  
"In or out?"  
"What?"  
She rolls her eyes, in a way very reminiscent of Santana and slowly repeats "Are you staying in the cell or out of it? Like you aren't leaving this room til Quinn is good and the mattress probably fits two people."  
"Uh in I guess."  
"Awesome, I'll see you two in the morning. Night guys." she shoves me into the cell, swings the door shut and runs out. Now its just me and Quinn in this fucked up room. I sit down and hold her hand. "I'm so fucking sorry, I don't know what's going on but I'll be here for you." I lean against the wall and against my best intentions I fall asleep.  
  
I wake up disorientated, the last thing I remember is being put in the back of Brittany's car. Opening my eyes I can see I'm back in my cage and I'm not alone. Puck is crashed out next to me, from the position he is in it looks like he was holding my hand when he fell asleep. It's weirdly sweet but is probably more related to guilt for hitting me rather than actual feelings.

I feel a tug when I stretch, looking down I see the drip in my arm. I follow the line up, bags empty so I pull the needle out. Fuck it's weird watching my arm heal up instantly. I stand up and stretch. All this dried cracked blood comes off me. It's fucking gross. My clothes are ripped and bloody, fuck. I want a shower and I don't think I actually have any other clothes. I sit back down and wake Puck up. "Bro," I shake his shoulder, "Bro, wake up. Brit will be down in a second." He wakes up and shoots straight up, "Holy fuck how are you ok?" he wraps his arms around me. "But thank fuck you are. What's going on?"

Our little moment is broken up by Brittany coming in. Like yesterday she has breakfast. Same thing too, score I love nutella. I walk up to the bars and chuck my arm through. Fuck I'm hungry again. I feel like I haven't eaten in days. Puck is watching us closely trying to figure out what the fuck is going on. I can tell he is confused, shit I know he is because a week ago that was me. Difference is I just stopped caring, I figure what happens happens. Ain't nothing I can do to fix it now. Surprisingly Brit opens the cage and props it open. "Wanna wash your hands and face before breakfast?" she gestures to the tap. Yea I guess that's a good idea. As soon as I saw the food I had totally forgotten how gross I was. I walk to the tap look at Puck, decide I don't really care and strip 'til I'm in the running shorts and bra. I soak the dirty tops in cold water and use them as a washcloth. To finish up I rinse my hair under the tap. Hot damn being clean feels so much better.  
"Can I have breakfast now?"  
"Yea sure thing babe." Early morning endearments in front of Puck? Not cool. Never the less I take the bread and start eating all of it, today I'm so hungry I just dip the bread into the nutella jar. Needless to say that doesn't really work and I end up eating balls of smooshed bread and hazelnut like a pig. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Pucks jaw moving, there is no sound though.  
"As you can see Puck, Quinn is fine. Like I said yesterday it would be best I you had just dropped it. But you didn't so long story short; Quinn is now like a shitty as version of superman. Don't tell anyone. Also I have shit to do today so please get out." she smiles sweetly and I can see that Puck is still confused as fuck.  
"Hey Brit seeing as Puck knows now can I please hang with him? I'll avoid other McKinley people, but I hate being locked down here. Besides I kind of know that you monitor the fuck out of me with your phone so it can't really hurt right?" I give her my best puppy dog eyes and she sighs. "Fine, but you owe me. Take this phone and txt me if anything at all happens. Now get out."  
Puck looks like he is about to keep questioning her so I grab his hand and pull him towards the door. I really don't want to be stuck inside playing Xbox all day if she changes her mind. She gives me a once over and I realize I'm half naked, fuck it I'll grab something from by the door.  
"As soon as you open the door we will be gone Brit."  
"Try not to get in any more accidents Quinn, have a good day."

**AN If there are any inconsistencies feel free to point them out. I like feed back.**

rosariogarcia **There is a point I promise, right now I'm having fun with groundwork.**


	9. Chapter 9

Holy shit. I'm allowed to leave and have a friend? There are no words to describe how awesome this is. It's like a snow day without the snow. Half dragging puck up the stairs to the door it is really hard not to giggle with excitement. I stop at the coat rack and grab the butt ugly participation hoodie that every McKinley student was given after our hugs not drugs workshop. Rachel is the only person I have ever seen stupid enough to wear it. The upside is that if people do see me in it they won't come close enough to see who I am. We run out the door onto the street, "Where to Puck?" he is standing stock still, staring at Brit's house. Yup she has definitely fucked with his head too. I flip my hood up and grab his arm, "C'mon, I'll explain this shit to you at yours." I hold his arm until we are both jogging towards his house.

We get there in about 10 minutes, Puck is sweating and bitching about running in jeans. I love how short a teenage attention span is. Doesn't matter what we are faced with give us 5 minutes to forget the issue and we will find a minor annoyance to complain about. "Toughen up bro, at least you have shoes, I'm pretty sure I stepped in at least one broken bottle on the way here."  
"What the fuck happened to you q? How... "  
I cut him off as he is getting kinda loud, clearly his attention span is longer than mine, "Can we do that inside? Please?"  
He gives me a look, oh I know that one he is trying to think.

"Alright but my mom is home so if you want to avoid talking to her as well your gonna have to climb into my room."  
"No problem, anything to avoid explanations." I give him a grin and run into the back yard. Hot damn I'm happy to have someone other than Brittany to hang with. Breaking and entering is a small price to pay for a break from that nutcase.

Ok so his bedroom is on the second floor. And there is no conveniently placed trellis or a balcony or anything useful. I look around the yard for a chair or something to jump off. If the base of the window is 3.5m up and I can reach 2m with up arms outstretched then I should be able to jump of a pile of crap and then pull myself up, right? The highest thing I can find is a stool they leave the washing basket on. That leaves me with just under a meter to jump. Yay maths. Should be doable. I take a run at i,t get my right foot placed and push. Well that was easier than I thought. With both hands firmly on the ledge I pull my head up to look in. Fuck, the windows shut. I don't really want to do the jump again because in hindsight if the chair had gone sideways then I could have been seriously injured. Wait, that was yesterday. I start laughing and my arms relax for a second. That's enough to go from peering over the windowsill to hanging off it. Now I'm laughing way too hard to pull myself up. Luckily that's when Puck opens the window. He scans the yard before hearing me. "How did you get there?"  
"Magic. Please move so I can get in," he steps back and I pull myself in. I land on some dirty clothes under the star wars poster, instead of getting up I pat the ground next to me.

"Sit down and I'll tell you a story."

It feels nice to talk. So I sit and tell Puck everything, well not everything. I don't tell him that I think I've always had a sub conscious crush on Santana. But I tell him everything else. At the end of it he is sitting there slack jawed. He swallows a few times.

"If I hadn't hit you yesterday there is no way I would ever believe that."  
"I know. And I'm sorry I broke your phone yesterday, I just really didn't want to go to the hospital and get marked as a freak. I don't have any money, but maybe I could help you clean pools to make up for it?"  
"That'd be primo, I actually got my first installation tomorrow and I really don't wanna dig the hole. Up for it Fabray?"

"Some nice hard manual labour? Sure why not."  
After our big deep and meaningful Puck gets up to take a shower. The dude has a weird collection of crap around his room to keep me entertained. He also appears to have thrown nothing out ever, I go through his closet and find clothes that can't have fit him since he was 14. Be close enough for me though. I cannot stand this hoodie any longer. I am pretty sure even Berry only wore hers once. I pull it off just as Puck comes back into the room. He is just wearing jeans and is drying off his torso. He looks at my state of undress and smirks.  
"Nice to see you still have those abs Q babe, looking go..." he trails off the smirk dropping off his face. "It that where you came off?" he had stepped totally into my personal space and was now running his fingertips down the scars gently. "Fuck." I step back. I don't want his pity. It's done it's over. So long as I never wear a bikini again no one should see. I go to pull the singlet I found over my head and he stops me.

"No, shower. You smell fucking terrible."  
"You didn't notice before." I don't know why I'm arguing I haven't had a hot shower since before the initial accident.  
"I smelt before too. But you smell like jockstraps in a slaughter house so get the fuck in my shower before I wash you myself." he is saying this in a mock serious voice. Just like that the mood is broken. I sidle up to him, his nose wrinkles at the stench but he holds his ground. "Sorry Puck, but Brit is the only one who gets to do that..." I run my hand down his chest and quickly duck into the bathroom as he tries to process that.  
I hear a loud "What?" just before the water starts.

**AN I feel this could be a beautiful friendship. Maybe.**


	10. Chapter 10

**AN This is huge (comparatively) as I have no work on right now. Thank 6 hours of sitting in a basement for it.**

I wash myself while laughing. The hot water feels so fucking good, I crank it up to just under scalding and just bask in the feeling of being clean. I steal shampoo and body wash laughing at the testosterone filled labels. I'm not convinced smelling like diesel soap will help me with the ladies but whatever. I reluctantly step out of the shower, find a cleanish towel in the mess on the floor. Fuuuuck, forgot to grab my clean clothes. There's a knock on the door as I'm drying off.

"Want some clothes Quinn? Just gotta walk out here and get 'em" I can hear the laughter in his voice. Making sure to wrap the towel around me tightly I leave the ensuite. He is holding the jeans and black wife beater I found. He has also dug up a purple bra and some star wars jocks from somewhere. I raise an eyebrow, he shrugs "You can go commando if you want, but I reckon that'd be more fun for me than it would for you." he waggled his eyebrows at me. "Feel free not to use the bra."  
Snorting I take the offered clothes, "In your dreams Puckerman."  
I get dressed then realize we have now exhausted our limited conversation topics. "Sooo, now what?"

"I take it you don't wanna to back to Brittany's?"  
"Fuck no."  
"Then pony up and show me your mad COD skillz."  
With that he fires up the Xbox and throws a controller at me. The next eightish hours pass in a nice comforting cycle of frustration, scathing insults and junk food as we try and 3 star all of spec ops. Fuck this oil rig. I refuse to play anymore without real food. Besides we have died enough for me to throw a tantrum and rage quit. "So Puck, whose bra is this?"  
"Yours now. Santana left it her in like sophomore year. Given how she and Brittany are together now I doubt she's ever coming back for it."  
I'm kinda distracted by the fact that Santana's boobs touched what my boobs are touching. Then I think about what if our naked torsos were actually touching. I start to really zone out before puck snaps his fingers in front of my face.

"They broke up." I blurt this out before he can say anything.

"Wha? You sure?"  
"Yup, that's how this started. Besides Brittany keeps weirdly hitting on me."  
"Hot." I smack him with a pillow.

"Fucking creepy," I correct him, "she doesn't even think of me as a person anymore. So I really don't want to get my mack on with her." Whoops, that may sound kind of gay.  
"With Her?" puck muses, "How about... Let's say Rachel." I snort but go slightly pink. He notices and grins "So I got the gender right," I go redder but say nothing. "but clearly not the person. Damn I so thought it would be Rachel, the way you watch my hot Jew friend. Let's see it's you so no one is really out of your league." from puck that is pretty much a compliment, I can see the wheels turning in his head he sits there in silence. He starts laughing. "It's Santana isn't it?" I go completely red before stuttering out a pretty unconvincing no. "It is, it so fucking is. That is fucked up with you living with Brittany," He stands up and points at me before singing "Quinn and Santana sitting in a tree f - u - c - k - i - n ofph." he grunts as I tackle him before he gets to g. I had heard enough to guess where he was going. We wrestle on the floor as I try to get him in a decent headlock. By the time I manage it he seems to have forgotten I'm a girl because he swings a fist into my stomach. I release him and we both get up. "Fuck sorry Quinn, it was a reflex"  
"Don't worry Puck you will be."  
With that I lurch forward leaning low and sideways. I manage to grab him around the thighs. Straightening up I flip him and he squeaks as his head nearly hits the floor. He's heavier than I was expecting but with my new strength I deal. I lean back and start staggering to the bathroom.

"Swirly time,"  
"Oh fuck no Fabray." he wraps an arm around the back of my legs and starts tickling behind the knee. End result being us just lying on the floor laughing and slightly sore. "Truce?" he offers. I look at his hand get up and then pull him up.

"Only if we can go get food."

"Good enough"

Dinner consisted of all you can eat Pizza Hutt. I talked Puck into paying with the excuse of "but you hit me, think of this as sorry food."

"You were trying to beat me up. Besides you nearly gave me a swirly as revenge."  
"Just pay the nice lady Puck. My wallet isn't in these pants."

"Those are my pants!"

"See now you have to pay." The male cashier is looking at us like we have an extra eye in the middle of our foreheads. I vaguely recognize him as a junior wannabe hockey player from school. This might lead to awkward rumours when we get back. Whatever, if I'm going after Santana I'm sure to generate way more. Halfway through our fifth pizza I am ready to admit defeat. Puck can win this stupid eating competition. Just before I call it my phone goes off, clearly it's Brittany as I don't even know the number for this brick.

"Hey Q is Puck there? I tried his phone but it doesn't ring anymore."

"Yup, want me to pass the phone over?"

"Nah just tell him that he needs to get his mums car pronto, apparently Finn's been trying to call him all day. He only just remembered that I called him for a pick up."

"Will do, is it ok if I stay at his tonight? I wanna help him dig a hole tomorrow."

"I guess just eat lots and txt if you start feeling antsy. Also remember I'll know if you have sex so don't." How the fuck am I supposed to take that?

"Sure thing Brit. I'll see you tomorrow." I hang up and jam the phone back in my pocket. "Well that was weird. Brittany says go get your mums minivan and that she will know if I have sex." Puck chokes on his food at the last bit. He coughs and finally clears his throat. "Let's blow this joint."

Turns out sleeping on the pile of dirty clothes on Pucks floor isn't particularly comfortable. Weird that. He wakes me up with a gentle kick to the ribs. "Up and at 'em lazy. You have a hole to dig today." I stagger into the bathroom, wash my face and chuck my hair into a messy bun. Alright I'm ready for the day. I don't have shoes so seeing as I slept in my clothes I'm ready to leave as well. I walk back into the bedroom about 30 seconds after I left. That has to be some kind of record for getting ready. "Can't expect me to do anything on an empty stomach," I grin and rub my belly to emphasize. "Are you serious? You ate like 3 pizzas yesterday,"

"That was like yesterday this is today, don't worry you can just get me a loaf of bread on the way." "Fattie fattie fattie. Also jump out the window because my mum is home again." This reminds me that I need to ask Brittany when I can tell people I woke up from my coma. For now I open the window, peer out to make sure his mum isn't in view and jump. I forgot it was this high up but I roll and it's ok. I hear a noise and quickly run onto the street to wait for Puck.

"That was hardcore Fabray, thought you were gonna lower yourself and drop. Not full on fucking jump."

" What can I say, I'm awesome."

We get to the house. Turns out Puck forgot to mention it is a full pool this dude wants. It's going to be about 72 cubic meters of dirt that need to be moved. What a dick. We measure out the 6x8m hole that needs to be dug. He backs his truck up and gives me the spade and wheelbarrow. This is total bullshit. Digging this hole is worth way more than a phone. "Right if you put the dirt in a pile here I'm going to get a new phone from the mall. See you in an hour." I give him a death glare but I totally talked myself into it yesterday so I can't complain. He blows me a kiss out the window as he tears off.

It's now two hours later and he hasn't show up again. I have made a pretty impressive hole in this guys lawn though. The rate I'm going it might even be possible to finish it in two days. I'm taking a sneaky drink from the garden hose because I'm fucking thirsty when I hear a voice. "Quinn? Why are you making a hole in my lawn?" it's Dave Karofsky. I drop the hose and he sees it. "If you come inside for a break you can use a cup." this boy sounds nothing like the bully from school. I figure I'm already busted so I head in wiping my feet on the mat.  
He makes me toast which is sweet. "I'm kinda skint at the moment. Basically I broke puck's phone a few days back and offered to give him a hand with some work to make up for it." That is the sum total of explanation I give him. He looks out the window "Musta been some phone. Want a hand?"  
This seems weird. I have never gotten on with this boy and he helped torment the shit of the entire glee club. But now I'm sitting in his kitchen eating his food while he offers to help me for no discern able personal gain. He sees my hesitation. "I'm grounded and bored as fuck. I'll also lend you shoes." it is the shoes that sell it. With shoes I'll be able to stomp the blade and get better digs going.

With two of us going for it we have it two thirds done by the time his dad comes home. He peers into the hole "I thought I hired the Puckerman boy to do this." he chucks some keys at me." Can you dump the dirt by the motocross park? I was supposed to get a crew over there to redo the berms but got too much going on." After he walks inside Dave looks at me in amazement.

"He likes you. I don't think he has given keys to that ute to anyone before." I shrug and clamber out of the hole.

"Wanna help me dump the dirt then?"

"Uh I'll ask."  
I back the truck up to the pile of dirt and start shoveling it in. This is gonna take fucking heaps of trips. I get the bed full by the time Dave comes out. "He said it's all good, also do you wanna stay for dinner?" Again with the Uncharacteristic behaviour, but I haven't seen Puck and I like the idea of avoiding Brit some more so "Sure."

"Really? Cool, he said it will be after a few more runs."  
It's weirdly easy hanging with Dave. He is completely quiet and doesn't care that I'm the same. The run is pretty simple. Drive down to the park, shovel dirt out near the fence, drive back refill tray. Repeat. On the second run we turn the radio on. Third, I hum along to the crappy pop. Forth and I'm singing and he is humming. We decide the fifth will be the last for the day. Driving down to the park I swear I saw Berry walking in the opposite direction. This lot I unload by myself as Dave claims his shoulder hurts. Personally I think he just wants to play with his phone but he didn't have to help me all day so I don't really mind. He is driving back and it's def the midget. She looks really sad with slumped shoulders and fuck in the street lights I think that's tears running down her face. I point her out as we drove past. To my complete and utter surprise Dave pulls over about two minutes walk ahead of her. "it's Finn problems," he says. My jaw drops. How the fuck does he know this. "I saw it on JBI's blog on my phone, something about famous people are either hotter or sluttier or they don't get to be famous. What do you want to do about it?"  
"Me what? I just said she looked sad." How and why is this my responsibility? He looks vaguely disappointed.

"I thought you gleek freaks were supposed to help each other," he has me there. She wouldn't hesitate to help me. I can now see her in the rear view. He sighs and turns the engine back on. "Whatever not my problem." as the car starts so does the radio. " and here is a treat for all you directioners." I recognize the tune and grin.

"This is what I'll do." I crank the radio so it's blasting in the still night air. Opening my door I climb into the bed. Rachel is about 10m away at this point and I doubt she saw me with the way she is looking at the ground sniffling. I take a big breathe really fucking grateful there is no one here to see this.  
She can hear the music and looks up just as I start.

_You're insecure, don't know what for  
You're turning heads as you walk through the door or or_

I sing her the whole fucking song having as big of a stage presence as possible in from the back of a truck. Jumping down I go to give her a hug when it finishes. Dave nicely turns the radio down and engine off while we have our moment. I open my arms for a hug and get a slap instead. "Ow," I work my jaw and try to figure out what's going on. She was sad so I did the glee thing and sang her a song. Sure I didn't rehearse it and I kind of figured to get some snide remark about going sharp but still. I whip my head around when I hear giggling from the truck.

"God can't you leave me alone for one night. I know this has to be some stupid game you and Finn cooked up. He was like oh no Quinn won't wake up now I'm sad and can tell Rach she was just the non pregnant consolation prize. Hey Rachel you should put out because you aren't hot enough to get away with teasing like Quinn. Oh Rachel don't walk out I'm only being honest. Oi Rachel I'm not chasing you cos I know you will be back begging for me I'm the best you can do." she pauses for a breath and I'm stunned. I hadn't realized Finn was such a dick. "So thanks for telling me you woke up. Guess our friendship really did mean nothing. Just climb back into Finn's truck and you can be on your merry cookie cutter way." she yells the last few sentences into my face. I don't think I've ever seen her this angry.  
"It's not Finn's truck. I just saw you when we were driving and thought I should cheer you up."  
"Oh so you just happened to drive up and down this road ten times, waiting until its dark to pull over and humiliate me?"  
"Um yea, but without the humiliation part."  
"And singing about my appearance after Finn told me I was worthless next to you, coincidence?" Fuck I really need to go put the beat down on Finn. Or make Puck do it because clearly everyone thinks I'm still in a coma and last year I wouldn't have had the strength or anger to give a good beating. Instead of answering her question I lean forward and kiss her. I wrap my arms around her small cold body and pull it into me. I hold the kiss and put all the energy I can into it. I put all the compassion and possession i can in. I slowly pull back, she looks a little dazed. "You are not worthless. You are pretty and smart and talentful."  
"That's not a word Quinn,"

I laugh, "see smart. Now come on we will drive you home."  
She panicked at seeing the school bully driving but just sort of accepted it when I sat in the middle of the bench seat. With three people it was a bit cramped. I was hyper aware of her hand on my leg, it was pretty much burning a hole into my skin. Huge relief when we got to hers and she jumped out. I'm speechless as she presses a quick kiss to my cheek and says goodnight.

Dave's dad just gave us nuked leftovers which we wolfed down. "See you tomorrow Quinn?" the way Dave says it more of a question than statement so I nod yea. It's late so I pull my phone out and give Brits a call. "Wanna pick me up?" bitch bitch moan etc. "alright I'll run back see you in 20."

**AN - boringsiot the way you review makes you my friend. Super appreciate it. Thanks**


	11. Chapter 11

The dirt has turned to mud thanks to sweat by the time I get back. I'd be grossed out but I am way to tired. Brittany is waiting in the front yard and waves when I get close. Guess she is in a happy mood that totally bodes well for me.  
"Hey B, how was your day?" I jump the picket fence without breaking my stride. I slow down and walk towards her.

"Impressive Quinn. You are getting better at things like that. Um to answer your question pretty good. Just did some refining work on your limiter controls. You look like you had a busy day."  
"Yea totally. Did you know Karofsky's dad is putting in a pool? Also Dave may kinda know I'm not in a coma. When can I tell people I'm not in a coma because I'd like to not have to climb in and out Pucks window."  
"Come in and clean up. We need another chat." she grabs my hand and leads me in. She goes upstairs to her bedroom and I head down to my cage. Sure it is more like a holding cell than a cage or dungeon but with the way she had been treating me that's what it felt like. I wash my face hair and arms under the tap, before sitting and waiting for Brittany. The chair seems too much of her seat to sit on so I opt for my floor bed. My work boots are filthy and the socks stink, I think under her desk is the best possible place for them. Lying down to wait for her I fall fast asleep.

I wake up with Brit straddling me. She is sitting with her ass on my crotch, hands on my shoulders covering my face and neck with wet kisses. "Hey sleeping beauty," she says, "did you know in the original story the Prince fucked her." She grinds down hard on the word fucked and suddenly I'm wide awake. There is nothing like waking up to a scantily clad hot chick, but I am very unsure of this situation. As my mind freezes and starts to reboot she continues. I woke up horny as fuck, subconsciously I must have gotten worked up in my sleep. Now I'm awake I don't like this. She is in charge of me, she doesn't think of me as person as far as I can tell and now she is trying to fuck me. This has to stop. I open my mouth to protest but she just leans forward and kisses me. Damn she is a good kisser. I melt into it and forget about my misgivings enough for her to pull my singlet up and over my head. She looks down and her face changes instantly from lust to rage. Smack. Her full bodied slap connects with my face, funnily enough the same side Rachel hit. What's not funny is the tooth it dislodges. I sit up coughing blood. For a second we are in an even more intimate position with her sitting on my lap torsos mere inches apart. But I lean over to cough out my tooth and she rolls off so she can stand and glare. "What the fuck was that Brittany?"  
"Why are you wearing Santana's bra you filthy slut? I say you can stay out overnight for one night and you come back wearing my girlfriends bra? You're a bad friend!" she was screaming and now she is crying. Dear lord why do I have to deal with all the crying chicks. First Rachel, now Brit. Is there like a universal cry on Quinn rule? I sigh and rub my face. Fuck me that was a solid hit.  
"I haven't seen Santana since before she dumped you Brit. She just left this at Puck's a long time ago. and she isn't your girlfriend anymore. You can't react like that." She just cries harder. Maybe I am a bad friend, because surely a good friend wouldn't do what I'm about to do next. "It's just a bra B, next year it will be her on me." Her head snaps up and she is staring at me. "I mean it. Senior year will be my last chance to show her I love her, and I'm gonna fucking do it." Brittany looks broken, "But she is mine I love her, I know I messed up but..."  
"But nothing. I love her and I'm gonna do my best to make her happy like she was in freshman year. I know I can do it, and I know she fucking deserves it after last year. If it turns out she would be happier with you then I'll back off. Otherwise..." I shrug and let the word hang between us. Brit can take that how she likes. Yep worst friend ever. Brits starts crying really hard, I get up to give her a hug, surprisingly enough she doesn't flinch away. I guess she doesn't have many places to turn.

"If you want you can sleep down here with me. No funny business though." She roughly wipes her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Ok. Can you please take that bra off though. It really hurts seeing it on you." I guess that's fair enough.  
This time I snuggle under the blankets before passing out from my physically and emotionally taxing day.

Pretty sure it's not morning when I wake up. Can't pull my phone out of my (Puck's) jeans to check though as Brittany is wrapped around my side. Somewhat regretting taking my top off before sleep with this waking position. I'm lying flat on my back and she has hugged up to my right side. One leg has pushed between mine, an arm over my waist and her head is resting on my shoulder. Looking down I notice how close her lips are to my breast. My breathe hitches and I struggle not to cough. If I cough she would probably wake and that would be hugely awkward right now. I look at the ceiling and think about my day. I am really hoping Rachel didn't take the fact I kissed her the wrong way. Now I think of it she is rather prone to forming strong inappropriate crushes. So I probably did the exact wrong thing to avoid that. Eh, I'll just try and avoid her until school starts, if that doesn't work I'll try to make her the bad guy so I can get I'm sorry cookies. Now Brittany is a bigger problem. Both height wise and emotionally. Because I can see she is hung up on Santana, but I refuse to help her get them back together or be her break up fuck. I mean I'd think about it if she treated me nicer and if it wasn't going to completely mess with my chance at Santana later.  
Brittany shifts in her sleep, hugging me tighter. I stroke her soft blonde halo, "Guess we are both broken."

The next time I wake up I'm alone. Its 5:43 according to my phone. Don't think I'm going back to sleep. I find the singlet from yesterday and chuck it on. As far as possible I'm going to avoid being naked around Brittany. Speak of the devil, the door opens and she comes in with a huge plate of waffles. It's golden and beautiful. Dripping with maple syrup and butter. I start drooling at the smell, "I love you," it slips out and she gives me a funny look,

"Was that me or the food." Ah fuck.

"The food, sorry. Just look at it. It's so, so perfect." She gives me the whole plate. Before I would have said is a family serving but now it seems about right.

"All of this? For me?" She nods. Score. I start to dig in as it would be a shame for it to go to waste. "Can we talk?" I nod and try to swallow the huge mouthful of food I'd just taken. She laughs at me and waves her hand dismissively. "Don't worry, you can keep eating. This is more me talking and you listening. I don't know what's going on anymore. I know you don't want to live here but you sort of have to as the more I study your blood work the less I seem to know about you." Wait, she took my blood? When was that I wonder. "So I may seem to be smothering you but I need to know what's going on so we don't have Incidents. And I guess your right about Santana. I have to admit I did over react about you in her clothes, but I made you waffles to say sorry for knocking your tooth out. Don't worry, I'm like 50% sure it will grow back." she leans forward and gives me a peck on the cheek she slapped yesterday. Yay we are happy families again. "So, can I keep digging today? And when can I tell people I'm not in a coma?"

"Yes to the first, and whenever to the second. You just need to come up with a good reason as to why you live here now." She hands me some clean socks and a different bra. "Hiding your socks under my desk was a dick move. For that you don't get clean clothes." Fair enough. I nod to show my understanding. Time to go to work.

I jog back over to the Karofsky's house. It is fucking cold with the sun just cresting the horizon so I get straight into digging to warm myself up. A few minutes later a light comes on and Dave's dad Pete comes out.

"Sorry to wake you sir." I've never had a conversation with this man, can't hurt to be polite.

"It's 6:30 had to get up for work anyway. Why are you here?" that's a fair enough question. I'm not sure myself, after being ditched by Puck yesterday it would be justified to say fuck it and not come back. In response to his question I shrug

"Nothing else to do." He gives me a funny look

"Getting paid much for this? I didn't think teenagers got up before midday without motivation." "Nah I'm doing it to pay back his phone I broke. And to kill time I guess." He looks at me for a minute. "I'd say that has easily paid off most phones. Jump in the truck and I'll give you a real job. With pay and everything." There doesn't seem to be any malice or threat behind his words. So I climb out of the hole and get in the truck. We drive in silence to a workshop. There is a bunch more trucks here. All filthy. He climbs out and goes into a little office. Now I'm thinking I should have asked what type of job this is. He comes out with keys, "You can drive manual right?"

"Ah, yes sir." he laughs a little this time. "I'm not really a sir type of person. Pete is good. I see your good at making holes so I thought I'd see what you were like at making holes in the road." he hands me the keys and points at a dirty white ute. "Jump in and follow me." I grab the handle to the ute. It moves but the door doesn't. Upon closer inspection the door is dented in and has been welded shut. He is waiting at the end of the road so I jump and pull myself into the open window.

We get to some shitty little street and he tells me how to read the plan, block the road, mark the road and use a concrete cutter. He looked a little dubious at the last bit but settled after I proved I could lift the fucker with no hassles. "Just give me a call when you finish, I'll get the next guys in and figure out whether you have a job or not."

Having a look at all the gear in my truck I put a hi vis vest on. Next I park in the middle of the road and put cones out. If my mother could see me now I would never hear the end of it. This is about as far as I can imagine from sundresses and cardigans. I feel a bit guilty for not living up to the Fabray name but fuck she sold me to Brit. I mark the road out in fluoro pink. Apparently we need about a shoulder deep hole so the council can do maintenance work on the water mains. Basically I dig down, then around the pipe call Pete and bugger off. He didn't say how much I'd get paid but I don't really care. This keeps me busy and I don't have to think about the future. It's pretty simple. I cut the road along the lines, crow bar the chunks of tar up then start digging. Before I can finish with the crow bar my phone goes off.  
_ - Hey lazy. Where you at? You got a whole hole to finish. _Clearly that's puck_  
Quinn - I got me a real job. With power tools and everything. Besides you totally ditched me yesterday.  
Puck - The chick that sold me this phone was hot. Had to see what else she was selling.  
Quinn - You're a pig.  
Puck - Jealous much FabGay?  
Quinn -Whatever, I'll help you after work. Gtg._

Well that was useless and uninformative. I get back to work prying chunks of road up. As per instructed they go in the back of the truck. I start in on the dirt and get into a decent rhythm. Thunk. Thank fuck I found the pipe. I was beginning to think I had marked the road wrong. I clear the dirt out and into the truck. I give Pete a call.

"All done" there is silence at the end of the line. Then

"Really?"  
"Uh yup that's why I'm calling you."  
"Alright see you in 40 min." He hangs up. That's ages away so I sweep the road and pack up all the tools, before having a nap in the car. I get woken with a rap on the window.

"Want a full time job for the holidays? I can give you $60 bucks a day cash, this truck and some work clothes." he spits on his hand and offered it to me. And here I thought that only happened in movies. "Deal."

The next six weeks pass in a blur. It's not that time is flying, just that every day is the same. Brittany has decided that sleeping with me on the floor is preferable to her bed upstairs and she looks so sad I haven't really argued with her. I wake up at 6, untangle myself from Brits limbs, have a cold shower (I looked up plumbing on YouTube and it wasn't too hard to extend the tap into a shower) eat a fuckton (clearly that is a legitimate imperial measurement) of breakfast then go to work. I head to the workshop and Pete tells me what I'm doing for the day. It could be holes, sewer maintenance, felling trees, basically anything the council can't be fucked doing. I get the tools I need then head off. I work for 9 - 13 hours on an average day, head back and lock everything up. On Fridays my pay is in a brown envelope in my pigeon hole. Best thing about this job is getting this truck. Being able to drive places is awesome. But that is how most of my holidays go. It's a week until school goes back when I get a call.

"Hey Quinn there is a glee party tonight, you keen?" it's Brittany. I'm knee deep in a storm water runoff and she is asking me about a party.

"Uh sure. Can you txt me the details because I'm a little busy."

"Sure thing. And you better come because everyone will be there and I'll be sad if you don't."

"I'll be there ok?" I hang up because I really don't want to fall over in this foul water. I just need to grab the grate, then swap it for the one in my truck. Apparently there has been issues with animals falling through the old ones and getting stuck underground. It's a pretty easy job, the only catch is the covers weigh in at 65 lb each and the footing sucks. I dropped one on my leg last week, snapped the fibula clean. I had to call Brittany to get my restriction lowered for a while. Which of course made me hungry and horny for the rest of the day. The whole system sucks ass. I dump the grate in my truck and stretch. This is my last cover of the day so I take my time waiting for B's message  
_Brittany - Be at Rachel's house by 4. Try to be clean. _

Very funny. Of course I'm going to be clean going to a party. It's just before 3 now so finish work by 10 past, drop all tools off by 25 past. Get back to Brits by 25 to, should be enough time to shower and walk over by 4. Leaving my phone in the cab I grab the grate and walk into the run off again. I am just about to put the grate in when I hear it. It's a quiet but very distinctive bark. Sounds like a puppy. I am completely ready to ignore the noise but it's louder with my head by the hole. I sigh heavily, can't leave a puppy down there. I lean the grate next to the wall and climb down the ladder. It's fucking foul. Water is running over the edge and spilling onto me like a shower of slime. As I get lower the puppy get louder and the smell is fucking terrible. I think it's sewers down here.

"Here dog dog dog." Yap yap. "Are you this way you fucking stupid mutt?" I keep my voice low and soothing. Sure enough the puppy barks louder. The smell is insane, it's making my eyes water. Then I see the puppy. It can't be more than six weeks old and it is covered in filth. It had a bow around its neck. Clearly it is an unwanted gift. It's reminding me of me so clearly it's my moral duty to save it. I gently dig it out of its box and unhook the bow from where it snagged on a piece of trash. "Aww you are a cute piece of smelly shit aren't you?" I'm not really a dog person. Not sure if you noticed. I cradle it in one arm like a baby. Fuck it looks pathetic, I'm glad I saved it.

Climbing a purely vertical ladder one handed sucks, but hey I saved a puppy. I'm like a fire fighter with a kitten. But cats are cooler and so much fucking cleaner. Finally I get to the top and just sit down in the cleanish runoff water. By clean I mean I can see through it and it doesn't smell like sewerage. I dunk the puppy a few times. Now it looks like it might have gold hair, what a champ. I awkwardly roll the grate into place then kick it in firmly. Alright that's item one off my pre party checklist.

Back at the truck the puppy can go on the back bench seat because no one uses it anyway. I check my phone. How the fuck is it 4:30? Oops. I shrug. I have no clean clothes anyway so I shorten my plan to workshop, drop old grates and tools off, put yesterday's work clothes on then go. Dave is in the workshop talking to Pete when I get there. He just laughs at me being dripping wet before helping me unload the back. "Hey Dave, want a puppy?" he looks at me,

"What type?"

"I don't know. It's a fucking dog" he nearly falls over laughing.

"Nah I'm good. Wanna use the shower out back? You smell like death." I flip him the bird. It's weird how we have become sort of friends. We don't talk or share anything, but we are comfortable in each others presence. I steal his shower stuff, and some deodorant before putting on yesterday's clothes. They are just dirty and smell like BO rather than today's shit. Party time.

I drive around to Rachel's park my dirty big work truck behind her tiny hatchback, grab the dog and head in. I notice while I was in the shower Dave replaced the ribbon around its neck. What the fuck am I supposed to say to these people. Surprise I'm not in a coma, cool huh. Want a puppy? Sweet that's my game plan right there. The door is open so I head straight in. Noise is coming from the basement so I try down there. It hasn't changed since the last party. I can see all of the familiar faces from last year. I get a big ass lump in my throat because no one has changed but me. What if I don't fit in anymore? What if I'm all alone?

Rachel spots me first "Quinn!" she sprints up to me, wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me down for a kiss. Completely squashing the dog between us. I'm stunned. What the fuck is this. Then I remember, it is my fault. I remove one arm from the dog and push her back. Everyone is watching us, Brittany looks interested, Puck is barely holding back laughter, Finn looks murderous and I have no way to tell what Santana is thinking. Everyone else is sitting between shocked and bemused.

"Uh Rachel, I think you have the wrong idea. I don't like you." her face falls and her lip starts to quiver. Fuck don't cry. I really, really don't want to deal with someone crying.

"But... Song... Not mean" shit she isn't even making sense.

"No no no. I do like you. You are my friend Rachel. Just my friend ok?" she looks up at me with watery eyes,

"But we are friends right?"

"Yes I promise we are friends." her lip stops quivering. Crisis averted. However everyone is still staring. So I use my fall back plan, hide behind this puppy. "Hey guys. Anyone want a puppy? I found this little man?" I flip him upside down and check, "Yep man today. He needs a home." Rachel grabs him out of my arms and starts cooing over him. She races him over to Kurt, Mercedes and Tina. And solved the mutt now has an owner. I go sit next to puck steal his beer and chug the whole thing before he can stop me. Let the party commence.

It turns out the drinking party doesn't start until later. Now it is time for such bonding activities as touch football. Which Puck and I promptly break. Because touch sucks. Kurt and Rachel bail out saying someone has to protect the dog. I have Tina, Mike, Mercedes and Brittany on my team Puck has Santana, Finn and Blaine. Artie agrees to ref. Rachel even found him a whistle. Naturally Puck and I get way too competitive. Which is fine. We just bait each other but as the game continues and we sneak more beers I start to slip up. I don't really mean to cheat but when I can jump nearly clear over Blaine it's a bit unfair. So he stars tackling me harder. Getting sacks that would be dubious in a regular game but without armour are downright painful. It becomes a game within the game and we keep going. It starts getting dark and Artie calls it from the sideline. "Next touchdown wins." we are on offense so should be us easy.

"Timeout team huddle," Puck's team gather in.

"You're just delaying the inevitable, we're gonna smash you." I taunt from our end of Rachel's back yard.

"Oi Quinn just for that your team is on D this play."  
"Dammit Artie"  
"Yea king of the referee's baby" is the only response I get. I think the power of the whistle has gone to his head.

It's time for our team talk.

"They are going to do what they do every time. Finn is gonna throw it to Blaine, while Santana protects him and Puck blocks for Blaine. So mike you take Blaine, I'll take puck and Tina Brit and Mercedes will dodge Santana and try to sack Finn got it?" Mike looks at me,

"You don't know anything about football do you?"

"Nope." He shrugs and we line up. Normally it's puck in front of me but this time it's Santana. Odd. Artie blows his whistle, Mike goes for Blaine who dodges him and sprints the end zone. Weirdly Finn is running backwards. I am not sure where Puck is and clearly my plan isn't working. I move forward to tackle Santana who glances sideways then does the last thing I expect. She lifts the bottom of her top and her bra and full on fucking flashes me. I stop stunned. She is beautiful, radiant, she reminds me of a goddess and I can't even breathe let alone think when confronted with her perfect tits. The next thing I know is pain. Puck smashes full force into me his shoulder catching just below my armpit. He lifts me up to his shoulder height so I am suspended horizontally in the air for a moment before slamming me into the ground. I lie there winded and dazed listening to him and Santana hi five while Finn and Blaine cheer. I totally forgot to take the fact that as quarterback Finn can easily throw the whole backyard into consideration. Santana wanders over and offers me a smirk and a hand up. "I'm surprised that worked Q, I was pretty sure puck was just trying to get his perve on." I take the hand and suddenly we are standing face to face, "Where were you Quinn? I needed you after Brittany and you weren't there. And I know you weren't in a coma because I called every hospital in this fucking state." I can see the pain and anger in her eyes. Fuck. This isn't how it's supposed to go. I look down at her hand I'm still holding.

"I can't. I just can't." she drops my hand like it's a snake.

"Fuck you Stretch marks. I don't think we were ever friends." she stalks through everyone to head inside. I'll bet she drinks hard tonight.

After a pizza dinner we hit the drinking. I try to talk to Santana but she isn't having any of it. The fact that Rachel and Brittany keep trying to flirt with me really isn't helping my cause. "Hey Quinn, I'm going to name the puppy you bought be Lucy because it's sweet like you."

"First off I found it in the sewer and offered it to anyone that wants to take it. Secondly it's a male dog so if you're doing that you should name it Lucifer after me and Santana." She doesn't get it. Puck does and gives me a fist bump over her head. Brittany is just tipsy and whispering lewd thing into my ear. To escape I go hang with Artie. He had just told Rachel how stupid her dress was so I was safe over here for awhile. We start debating whether the cod or halo online experience is better. We chat until Rachel yells, "My house, my rules. It's truth or dare time!" Artie and I exchange an oh fuck look before sitting down with the others.

**AN - So yea, this was all I did at work all day. Smell the lack of productivity.**


	12. Chapter 12

Truth or dare is never going to end well. It will either be boring as fuck, or will dissolve into a shit storm. Looking at the scheming look on Puck's face I'm pretty sure this will be the later. We or more correctly they settle on rules. I go steal the just opened 30 pack of beer and stash it under Artie's wheelchair. Fuck playing this at anything approaching sober. He notices but says nothing after I promise to share. We settle down in a circle I have Artie on my left which is positive, but Brittany on the right which really isn't. However I have a really good view down Santana's top with her sitting opposite me. I drag my eyes away from her cleavage and force myself to listen to Rachel.

"The Rules for Rachel Berry's Truth or Dare Extraordinare are," she takes a huge breathe and an even bigger dramatic pause, "The same person cannot be chosen more than three times in a row. You can forfeit your dare or refuse to answer your truth but it will cost you one item of clothing each time. As an addendum to that rule shoes socks and stockings all count as one. Finally if you are to lame to ask anything you may ask a never have I ever question, but to do so you must finish a drink. Let the game commence!" Fuck she is keen. It would be funnier if the game she had just described wasn't so terrible. Brittany jumped in to start

"Tina, truth. Are you and Mike's babies going to be Asian too?" Tina just started laughing,

"B you are supposed to give me the option of truth or dare. But yes our babies will be of the Asian persuasion." She and mike giggle and hold hands. Finn is next

"Quinn truth or dare?" I can't read the look on his face.

"Dare." I really want to avoid truthful questions if I can tonight.

"I dare you to swap tops with Artie. Two layers each." There is an evil glint in his eye all I can think is thank fuck I wore a singlet as well tonight. I look at Artie

"You all good with this?" he shrugs.

"It's all part of the game." With that he undoes the top three buttons of his shirt and pulls the sweater vest and shirt off together. He is sitting there in a white thin as fuck undershirt so I hurry up and swap. I just grab the necks of my t shirt and singlet pull it over my head and hand it to him. There is a huge collective gasp when the group sees my side. Up until now I had pretty much forgotten the scars. Suddenly feeling self conscious I pull on Artie's clothes. I feel like a moron in this sweater vest but at least people aren't staring at my scars. I chug a beer.

"Are we playing or are we staring?" I ask. Fuck I wish they would stop looking at me. Puck takes pity on me,

"Trying to call the game off before everyone finds out you're chicken shit Fabray?"  
"Nah I just don't want you getting found out as a pussy bitch. Be way to much effort stealing your spot on the team." Mercedes starts laughing at this, puck shrugs it off with,

"We playing or are you bitching cos your jealous of my guns?"  
"Noah has a point, we shall endeavor to continue this game." Wow I'm actually happy for Rachel to be speaking.

"Mercedes I believe it's your turn." we turn and look at her.  
"Fine, truth or dare Rachel?"

"Oh I am feeling adventurous, dare." Mercedes rolls her eyes.

"Of course you are, here is your challenge, play 7 minutes of heaven with whoever you spin with this bottle." She hands Rachel an empty bottle. The entire circle groans at the enthusiasm on Rachel's face. Right now it looks like only Puck would want to be in a closet with her, well maybe Brittany.

"I don't quite get it."

"You spin the bottle then you and whoever it lands on goes into the closet and has sexy time for seven minutes. Oh and we listen to make sure you do. It's like super fun." ok definitely Brittany after that explanation. Rachel leans forward to spin the bottle, I lean back to grab another beer. Fuck Artie looks odd in my dirty work shirt. It's faded and it should be black, instead it's closer to brown. I'm laughing as I turn back to the circle. I take a swig of beer wondering why everyone went quiet. I spray said beer into my lap.

"No. Just no." Rachel looks sad. This time I don't give a fuck.

"That's fine just forfeit," Mike says. This earns him a slap from Tina. "What? I meant her shoes." she gives him a look but he seems earnest so is forgiven. I unlace my work boots and start peeling off the socks. After 6 weeks of this rubbish I'm used to the smell. Clearly no one else is.

"Outside, Quinn." I follow Brit's instruction immediately as she is using her don't fuck about voice. It raises a few eyebrows. A drunken Kurt makes a whipped noise, hah if only he knew what she had over me. The shoes and socks go upstairs by the front door. Coming back down I look at my friends, even with this rat shit game going on they haven't labelled me as a freak yet. Maybe they can accept my change by the time I tell them.

"Alright then Puck, your turn. Show us how lame you truly are."

"I don't know you seem over dressed. I mean Rachel was totally keen to be all over you so you still owe us another piece of clothes." He is smirking. For fucks sake this game is just turning into an amalgamation of all bad party games. I comply with bad grace, then pop the collar on Artie's shirt. "Game on."

After the rocky start people forget about playing pick on Quinn. We found out about the gap attack from Blaine, forced Finn to try and skull a gallon of soy milk and Santana had to serenade one of Rachel's neighbors. It was all harmless fun until Rachel truth or dared me. After I don't know how many beers I picked truth out of sheer laziness. "Truth time Quinn. Who in this circle would you most like to have sex with?" I flip her the finger. Just because I want to fuck Santana senseless doesn't mean I want to announce it. So I think, would I rather lose the shirt or the pants. Shirt means everyone will be staring at the scars, jeans mean that I'll be sitting in my undies. I realize I'm wearing the star wars jocks I stole off puck start of last month. So shirt it is. I wink at Santana before slowly unbuttoning my shirt. I know she has mellowed out since earlier, the fucking huge scars on my side gives my coma story some legitimacy. She laughs when I throw it at her. Turning back to Rachel I say, "Yea not answering that one Berry. Just a hint, it's not you." I lean across to get a hi five from Puck. He grins "My turn. Quinn truth or dare?"

"Dare." with Puck there is no safe option. Judging by the grin that split his face I definitely picked the wrong option. "I dare you to jump from the roof, into the tree then backflip into the neighbors pool." there is utter silence. It's easily the most hardcore dare of the night. Puck smirks at me and I realize he is just trying to make me lose my pants. Looks like Santana, Tina and Mercedes all see it too as they start cackling their heads off. I see how this is. I don't have a belt so I start on the button of my jeans. My fly makes a nice loud zipping noise. I finish another beer before I stand up to pull them off. I have a slight sway not sure how many beers I have had, then drop my jeans.

"Thief," puck points and yells at me. "those are totally mine. Wait where are you going?" I've started walking up the stairs to the rest of the house. I'm wearing a plain gray bra and some star wars jocks. While I'm glad they cover my ass, it doesn't leave me with too much dignity. So jumping off the roof is now a matter of pride.

"Can't swim in jeans bro."

I am standing in Rachel's window frame. I'm facing inwards ignoring all the yells from the yard about how I should go back in before I kill myself. I laugh when Brittany asks me to hurry up and turn into a pancake so she can go back into the warmth. Someone asked what the highest mark she'd ever gotten in a test was so she lost her shirt instead of answering. Concentrating on the task at hand I lean out so I'm hanging by my fingertips. I crouch and jump as hard as I can, I really don't want to miss the edge of the roof. I make it, get both hands on it. One hand hits a loose nail so I let go immediately. It's pretty torn up from the force of impact and bleeding heaps from the alcohol in my blood. I hang there with one hand. "Your roof sucks Berry." I can hear general panic noises from below me. I suppose from their perspective this looks bad. I put the other hand back on the roof and pull myself up. Fuck that hurt. Stage 1 completed. I climb up to the peak suppress the urge to yell like King Kong before taking a running jump off the building. This is way easier as I can see where I'm jumping. The branch I'm aiming for is fucking huge, about a foot diameter two meters forward and one meter down from my starting point. I land heavily and hug the trunk to steady myself. I leave a huge blood smear on the pale tree. I'm surprised my hand is still bleeding, it normally would have been half healed by now.

"Quinn? Are you dead yet?" that's puck.

"Not yet."

"Hurry up then."

"Aww is little Pucky suffering from shrinkage?"

"Just jump bitch" With such nice encouragement how can I refuse. I let go of the trunk, take a few steps down the branch and do a round off to handspring dismount like a pro. I knew Cheerios would be useful for something one day. I backflip in the air before hitting the water. I landed in darkness, but surface in blinding light. I'm thinking that it's an awesome metaphor for tonight, entering in dubious conditions and leaving as the clear winner of truth or dare. However the light is more related to Rachel's neighbours having a security light. A big man holding a baseball bat appears at the back door.

"Don't you fucking move. I'm calling the cops you trespassing punk." Clearly I do the exact opposite of what he says. I paddle to the edge of the pool, roll out and start sprinting. I get over the opposite fence to Rachel's before he catches me and walk off listening to his swearing.

I jog around the block staying mostly hidden in gardens. I don't want to be caught in my underwear. I get near the berry house. The neighbour is watching the front and the house is suspiciously dark compared to when I left. I'm fucking tired, reasonably tipsy and way over this shit. I briefly consider punching the man out, then realize that would be assault. I settle for sneaking into the bed of my truck and passing out in there.

I wake up at first light. Big surprise there. Being sober now I realize it's fucking cold, I'm also fucking hungry. I don't really want to walk up to the house and ask for my clothes back in broad daylight. I have to have some options right? It hits me. This is my work car. I have safety gear and hopefully one of my old shirts.

**AN So I pretended to work today. Still achieved nothing. Also I had like five emails telling me about alerts, favourites and reviews this morning. Totally set me up for a sweet as day. Thanks Peeps.**


	13. Chapter 13

I carefully peer over the side. I can't see anyone. I jump through the open (empty) driver's side window, and lean through the gap in the seats. Over the six weeks I've had this truck I never bothered clean the back bench seat off fully. You never know when you might need cleaning rags or broken tools. Needless to say with the dents, welded up door and dodgy ignition there is a reason Mr Karofsky straight up gave me this truck. I quite like the way I can't lock it with the drivers' side window missing. Makes days like today way easier.  
I find a singlet that should be white but is fluctuating between yellow and brown and a navy Lima Streetworks polo that has some major torso rips and no left sleeve. Well that is my top half decent. I keep digging for pants. I don't have pants, or shorts, or even a towel to wrap around my waist. The best I can do is the canvas chainsaw chaps with the rip and bloodstain in the right hand thigh. What can I say? A hot blonde walked under my tree. Do you expect me not to look? I pull them on as they are better than no pants. I think. It's still way too early for this shit, I will get my pants with my phone wallet and keys after breakfast. I have last weeks pay in the glove box and can just hot wire the car. McDonalds it is.

I am having difficulty hotwiring the truck. Pete showed me how to do it after the ignition barrel started slipping. However he showed me on a different car, one that we could open the door and not have to be at such a god awful angle. I hear the front door open, and wonder why would anyone get up this early voluntarily. I see Kurt looking the most ruffled I have ever seen him bringing the dog out for its morning piss. He does not look happy, but his dad runs an auto shop right surely he can hotwire a car right. If it gets me to McDonalds quicker then it's a legitimately good plan. I lean out my window,

"Rough night there Kurt?" his head jerks up.

"Quinn?"

"Yup, want breakfast?"

"Where did you go last night? We were going to look for you but..."

"It's cool. You can make it up to me by hotwiring this car." His whole freaking body jerks at that. Obviously he doesn't approve of this plan.

"You can't just steal cars. Even if I knew how to do it I wouldn't help you." the last past was nearly shrieked out.

"Woah, settle petal, its totally my car. I just want breakfast before I go inside and beg for my pants back." he settles a bit but is still looking at me suspiciously.

"My keys are in my pants. And I'll get this turning over eventually, just thought you might be quicker at it. Want to come for McDonalds?" he looks dubiously at my truck then at the puppy by his feet, "You can bring the stupid dog and avoid the start of cleaning" I add to sweeten the deal. To be honest I'm not that fussed but he is an awesome gossip and will hopefully know and share more than I get from Puck and Brittany.

The idea of avoiding cleaning seems to work. He hands the puppy through my window before walking around the truck. He opens his door and nearly falls over laughing. I'll admit that I am a reasonably comical sight with my trashed tops and the chaps. The chaps probably wouldn't be so bad over jeans. But the combination of a super sized belt buckle over starwars jocks is terrible. I can't even begin to describe how stupid I look right now.

"Shut up or I'll make you walk into the store with me." the look on his face is priceless. He is oscillating between disbelief and horror.

"No you can't. That's inhumane." he is stuttering, I guess horror won out.

"Chill we are going drive through, I'm not that big of a dick yet."

We get to McDonalds by discussing what had happened after I hit the pool yesterday. Apparently the neighbour had come over and tired to break in. When that failed he yelled about calling Rachel's fathers. So we have about two hours to get the whole house clean. No wonder Kurt was easy to get in the car. We get to McDonalds and start to order

"Uh hi can I hav-" I'm cut off by,

"Hey Quinn is that you," Fuck that shows how much I've been here if they recognise my voice through a speaker.

"uh, yea," I don't look at Kurt because this is more stupid than my pants.

"What's up Stacey?" given how early it is on a Saturday morning I assume it's the Friday night manager, Stacey. She has dirty brown hair and seems to have accepted how much I eat. Given how confused she was the first time I did it I'm calling it progress.

"I was wondering if you could do me ... A favour." she finishes the sentence in a fake breathy voice. I know she is fucking with me, but I play along for Kurt's benefit.

"Oh I'd love to give you a hand."

"Drive on through blondie." I move to the next window and wait. Kurt turns to me

"oh my god. Did you really just get hit on through a drive through window?"

"nope"

"That is the trashiest thing I have ever heard of. What happened to the Quinn with class and standards?" I know that was just an offhand comment but it cuts deep. I grip my hands on the steering wheel. I tighten until it hurts and then keep going. I can't snap at such a flippant comment. Taking a deep breath then another I finally manage to let go of the wheel. There is a little dent in the top but nothing too bad. It's pretty hard to fuck up foam and steel.

"She died." he notices how my whole demeanour has changed and doesn't push it. Instead he checks on the puppy which give me a chance to relax. Stacey pokes her head out the window,

"if you give us a hand unjamming the freezer door, I'll give you all the left over night food." Fuck. She knows I'm strong from the day I helped her move stock. She undid her buttons and bent forward when she asked me, naturally I gave her a hand. Asked for a number and she laughed and showed me a photo of her boyfriend. Now she just messes with me and gives me food for help. Today I don't wanna play. Because I will never live this lack of pants down.

"Uh, kinda can't today."

"c'mon it'll take you like a minute babe"

"I really don't want to."

"Do it."

"uh"

"Dooooooo IT"

"fine,"

"good bitch" Kurt chuckles at that. I climb through my window and climb into the mcd's window.

"Shut up"

She drops a few pounds of fries for me while I check the door. It's a 250lb door that fell off the rail. I make sure no one is looking and lift it back onto the rail. I turn around and Stacey is standing slack jawed holding brown bags full of fries.

"Shhh, your just jealous of my awesome." I grab the bags of fries and pass them through the window to Kurt. Please just let me get out of here and don't say a thing. I just want to be gone I'm not sure if I'm mentally begging god or Stacey, I just want to forget my slip ups. Kurt already has 5 or 6 bags of greasy as food by his feet, I add the chips and start the engine before Stacey stops me.

"Here, your friend said you needed a vegan option." both her hand and voice are shaking as she hands me the smoothie. I am just glad as fuck she isn't saying anything about that door.

"Thanks." I speed off.  
The trip back is silent. I can see Kurt dying to ask me want that was all about but my earlier reaction is preventing that. I kill the engine and climb out, I Kurt passes out the food to me before getting Berry's damn puppy and exiting my vehicle. Something tells me he will never get in that truck again.  
I nod at Kurt

"Can you knock? My hands are kinda full" it's true, I've got my arms wrapped around 8 large bags of food. With a put apon look he complies. Puck opens the door.

"Nice going cowboy, I needed some real food." I walk in and dump my prize on the kitchen table.

"Aw was Rachel trying to feed you that vegan crap? Poor baby." I grab a bag of fries and three quarter pounders, Puck is staring at me

"I knew it, you're banging the McDonalds chick! That's how you get normal food at breakfast time." he looks like he just won an academic award. I roll my eyes before replying,

"Or you know, maybe she is straight and just likes feeding me for favours."

"Favours eh? That's not sounding so straight to me."

"Fuck off Puck," I go back to eating.

People come and sit down for breakfast, I make sure to make eye contact only with my food. I'm sitting at the back off the table so no one can see my legs. So far no one is talking to me and it's great. All I have to do is bribe puck to grab my jeans and I'll be sorted. however Rachel comes in with the fucking mutt, "Hey Lucifer, there is our awesomest friend ever see look she even got me a nummy vegan shake." I can't help but chuckle at the fact no one fixed the name. So concerned right now about the way she is looking at me. It's like I'm the last life boat on the Titanic. Fuck me why did I have to be nice to her. I should have just given the damn dog to the pound. She tries to sit next to me and I fall off my chair in my haste to move. Like seriously fuck today. I just lie on the kitchen floor groaning. Puck leans over and tips half a bag fries on me, then grabs the filthy mutt and drops it on my chest.

"We got us a Berry surprise here on the floor guys."

"Helpful Puck. Just what I needed" Brittany is pissing herself laughing and everyone else is trying to pretend it's not that funny.

"Can someone please find me my pants?" I lift the dog off my chest and start wrestling Puck. I think it was Brit that drops my pants on top of us. I get a light cheap shot to Puck's gut before rolling away to stand and change. Santana wolf whistles. I'm glad to lose a little pride if it makes her happy. Fuck I know before this year is up I'll most likely be locked in a cage in a lab somewhere. Lose pride now for Santana's benefit or lose all of it when I'm busted.

"Oh shoot my dad's are here. We are so busted."

"Is the basement clean?"

"Yes but the rubbish bags filled with alcohol paraphernalia are still by the back door."

"So someone puts them in the back of my truck and we say we are working on Glee shit. Glee club here so its glee shit. Sorted."

"Oh my gosh Quinn you are an amazing genius, so brilliant,"

"Rachel shut up. Tina, Mike can you deal with the bags?"

We got away with it and headed off our separate ways. Brittany told me to take the week off to start working up and down the control levels. Apparently I'm stable enough to start fucking with. Awesome. Not.

**AN Yes this chapter is rat shit. Also hoping work picks up so no more daily updates. **

** DanielaGoncalves Fierce is supposed to be creepy. Very.**


	14. Chapter 14

"Alright. This is as simple as I can make it for you. Basically you come with five settings,"

"Like a TV." Puck interjects.

"No not like a TV. More like a heater I guess. Also shut up." Brittany glares at Puck who shrugs and goes back to playing with his phone.

"Why is he here?"

"Yea, Why am I here?"

"Because Fuck you, that's why. Anyway back to settings."  
We are sitting in Brits basement I'm in my cage sitting on my mattress, Puck is spinning on Brittany's computer chair I am still completely confused as to why he is here. Brittany is leaning on the door in full lecture mode. She even found some sexy librarian glasses somewhere. I asked about them and she said they make her look smarter. I really need to stop her sleeping in my bed. She has started to get both handsy at night time and cuddly in the morning. Neither of which is a good sign.  
"Attention Quinn. Settings, or power levels or whatever." she clicks her fingers in my direction until I look at her.

"Yes I'm listening. Whatever."

"This is important. Again, five settings. At five it will suck. Your muscles will shake, you will be totally fucked, and you will feel like you ran a marathon after a week of no sleep. Four is where you are now. Stronger than usual but not ridiculously strong." I don't tell her about how I managed to lift a 250lb door it seems irrelevant to this conversation. "Not too much faster and I've managed to tweak it so minor external injuries don't heal up too quick. The main thing about stage four is its stable, you can control your impulses and not die. Like when Puck hit you, you will get messed up though. I've cranked you up to three a few times to speed heal you. But I honestly don't know what affect it has on your mind and body. So the purpose of the next few days is to figure out what settings three through one can do."

This seems like an awful plan. Brittany is recording my body's reaction with her iPhone. Apparently she made a special "Quinn" app. It records all the neural impulses that indicate things like adrenaline, pain and healing impulses. She can also swap my power level with it. Basically it's straight up creepy. I haven't told her I know the passcode, I get the feeling knowing it may be very beneficial later on. Besides setting it as Santana's birthday is just plain dumb. Back to her awful plan. Puck is sitting behind the wheel of my truck, revving the fuck outta my engine. I'm sitting at power level three and she wants me to run at the truck as he tries to hit me head on. We are using my car as it has a bull bar and we won't need to take it to the shop after he hits me. But I know it's going to hurt, like really bad. I am trying to motivate myself to move towards it.

"Ready?" I shake my head but Puck rev's my engine in response. "Alright go." He guns it towards me, he is enjoying the turbo charge in my truck way too much. I have to run into the truck this time, I dived to the side the last two runs and Brittany is getting impatient. She is also looking really fucking pretty. I stop and turn towards her completely forgetting what I'm supposed to be doing right now. Because fuck she is looking eminently bangable right now. I take a few steps towards her and BANG.

That was the wrong type of bang. I roll around on the ground in insane pain. It does remind me that I don't want to sleep with Brittany. I get up after a minute and stagger over to lean on my truck. After a few deep breaths I feel fine. Brit and Puck are both staring at me.

"What? Wasn't that the point of this? That I would get up and be fine."

"Holy shit if that's three I'm not sure it's safe to go any higher." that's Brittany. Pucks surprisingly more helpful comment is

"See that blood stain right there? That huge fucking puddle? That was you. It's one thing for that crazy bitch to say you'll be fine. But you got up like instantly. Fucking wrong." I don't really understand his concern as I'm pumped I feel like I have just sculled a litre of red bull. I just wanna run, or jump or fight or Fuck. Scratch everything I just want to wrestle a bear to impress someone (Santana) then fuck her senseless. I'm getting more and more hyped. I'm gonna do this. Fuck yea. It's a good plan. I'm bouncing from foot to foot shadow boxing. I can vaguely hear Brit asking me to calm down. But why the fuck would I do that? I'm so good right now. I can taste life on the fucking air. Brittany plays with her phone some then turns to Puck. I don't know what they are saying because I have totally forgotten why I don't want Brittany. I mean she is hot and smart and her parents are rich and she is hot. I walk towards her. Well stalk might be a better word because I am getting her. She isn't smiling, well I can definitely fix that. I smile at her cos hot damn we're gonna have some serious fun. Crack. Ow I look down, my stomach hurts and I'm not sure why. Never mind Brittany is just a few steps away now. Crack crack.

Ok now I am lying on the ground choking around my mangled throat and clutching at the bullet wounds in my stomach I remember exactly why I don't want Brittany. She grabs my hands and hand cuffs them before Puck is wrapping me in chains. She grabs my feet and he has my shoulders. One two three swings and I'm thrown into the back of my truck.

"Fuck you guys, this is my car."

"Well right now we can't trust you and we have to leave as I'm sure someone would have called the cops about gunshots." She kisses my forehead before covering me with a blanket and presumably jumping in the front with Puck. What dicks, they could have at least put me on the backseat.

By the time we get back to Brittany's house I've healed up. I'm still all covered in blood and chained up in the bed of my own truck but whatever. I had assumed that they would let me loose once we got here, but instead I get thrown over Puck's shoulder. Lame. Through the door, to the left, down some stairs safety door and home. I get dumped on the mattress but still not unchained. What is this shit? I awkwardly roll toward the bars.

"Uh, a little help here?" Brittany checks the cell is firmly locked, rattled the door to double check before bending down to unlock me through the bars. She steps back quickly leaving me to untangle myself. Which I manage but it's fucking awkward, I glare at puck for laughing when I thrash like a seal.

"Can I ask what this was about?" I ask in a nice even tone of voice holding the chains to empathize my question.

"You lost control. So then I put you down to four, and you didn't snap out of it. So I shot you, and then we bailed really quick before cops showed up." She says this like it's totally normal.

"You shot me? Like with a gun? FUCK! That's not cool."

"Oh so Pucks allowed to hit you with a car, but I can't even shoot you with a pissy little 9mm? How is that fair?" I don't really have an answer for that. I just go lie on my bed. I feel pretty much normal now, rubbing my stomach there are some raised welts which are sinking as I touch them. I lift my shirt and it looks like old pimple scars which fade to nothing as I watch. Now I sort of get why they were freaked out when I got up. It's one thing to know intellectually I'll heal up instantly, but physically watching the process happen is something else entirely. I just in my bloody ripped clothes and sulk. Fuck my life.

In the hour or so I'm sulking Puck leaves and Brit disappears upstairs. Fuck her for still having a life. She comes back downstairs with a huge pile of food which goes through the bars. I'm getting no trust today. "Eat up and sleep your mood off. Tomorrow is going to be worse."

This seems like such a fucking bad plan. yesterday I went to power level three, and Brittany shot me do being threatening so today were gonna crack it up to level two. We are on a different back road than yesterday and Brittany is in the car today.

"Do you remember the plan?"

"Get hit by the car? Sure it's not that hard a fucking plan to memorize." I take my place on the road and wait. Within about ten seconds I can feel pure power flowing through my veins. It is a huge rush, right now I feel I can take on the world. The truck is moving towards me, but slower than yesterday. Fuck it, I laugh and run towards it, dropping shoulder just as I hit it. I can feel my shoulder and upper ribs shatter under the impact, but even as they break in a ripple effect I feel the top ones reforming. I get my low hand under the bull bar and the high one on top. I tense my legs and straighten up lifting the truck. Just to see if I can I shift the top arm down and lift the whole front end above my head. I hear screaming, curious about the noise I lower the truck to the ground. Puck is dead white and gripping the wheel like a lifeline. Brittany is playing with her phone clearly trying not to panic. Huh, I'd totally forgotten people were in there.

"Oh fuck sorry I was supposed to stay and get hit right? I can just go back to waiting if you want..."

"No no its fine. Just stay where you are until you are nice and calm." Calm? I'm fine. I'm about to say so when I get hit by a wave of nausea, fall to my knees vomit everywhere then pass out.

**AN Although this may be significantly shorter I like this more than the last. Also Boringsiot y u no love?**


	15. Chapter 15

**AN - So this chapter is dedicated to Boringsiot, as I was joking about missing reviews and you did backdate them anyway. You Fucking Legend. **

Something isn't right. I mean ever since meeting Brittany in the park nothing has been right. Also waking up disorientated in this fucking cage is pretty much par for course right now but holy fuck. I found the problem when my blanket shifted. There is a chunk of metal through my leg. No scratch that there is two of the fuckers. They are both in my right calf four inches apart and they look sort of like flat thick cuffs. To top this off they are connected to chains that are bolted to the ground. I grab the chain and give it a tug, there is no give whatsoever. I am monumentally pissed right now. People don't even do this to their dogs. I lie there and shift my leg so there is the least amount of pressure on the locks.

Sure enough Brittany comes down super quick. That is one perk of her constant monitoring.

"Quinn don't be angry. I just needed to make sure you would stay here when you woke up." I jump up and move to the bars, I can get an arm through past the elbow if I try hard enough, the other is on the bar pulling it towards me. It's bending, albeit slowly. I can feel the metal slowly ripping down my leg as I pull myself closer.

"You do shit like this to me. And you wonder why I want to fucking leave." The pain in my leg is insane, so I step back to relieve the pressure. She leans forward to try and gauge my mood. I two handed slap the bars right next to her head. They bend a little and she flinches. We are standing face to face with my hands against the bars. She is white shaking but not backing down. I'm breathing heavily filled with rage. I know I could smash my way through these bars but then what? I'd have to rip my leg to bits to get any further and that would leave me wide open for attack. Also, sure I can barely see straight I'm that angry but if I kill her then what? I have nowhere to go and eventually I'd be caught. They would take me to a research lab and I would never be seen again. The potential consequences are what have me stepping back. She breathes a huge sigh of relief, before she starts crying.

"I am so fucking sorry. It was all I could think of to do. I just didn't know what you would be like when you woke up. I couldn't know that you would even be able to think anymore." She is just sobbing, but I don't care. Who the hell thinks of something like this. I can feel the tacky blood drying on my leg. Fuck my blankets, standing hurts. I'm making a mess and it doesn't matter because I don't have to fucking clean it. So yes I'm still fucking angry. And that sobbing is fucking annoying. I lean over and bang the bars causing Brittany to flinch, hiccup and stop crying for a bit. Thank fuck for that. I collapse back onto my mattress. I'd sulk but I'm too worked up to sulk. Time for info,

"Soo, I take it I'm not leaving this cage until school but when are these fucking bits of metal coming out?" I don't raise my voice, I don't look at her I just keep my voice as low as possible, but the menace still seeps through.

"You can most likely leave for the weekend, and if you can control yourself those come out tomorrow," I've never heard her sound so small. Time to take advantage. Fuck control.

"I want my fucking phone, and I want it fucking now." She sniffles a bit before playing go fetch like a good bitch. I'm being petty and vindictive, this won't serve me well in the long term but right now I don't give a shit. Also in the back of my mind I know that being this terrible isn't me. It's just poor emotional control left over from being at such a low restriction. I can't imagine what I'd be like with no restriction by this stage. Brit throws my brick through the bars where it lands on my stomach.

"Thanks," I don't say it in a very positive tone, but the fact I said it seems to make a difference to the way she is acting.

But sweet, now I have my phone to play with. I even have enough reception to txt. I take a look at Brittany, she is playing with her computer looks like sciencey research shit. Logically I should pay attention because it is all about me but, I work hard at high school level Biology fuck post grad shit. I enter Santana's number from memory.

_Quinn: Hey S it's Quinn, sorry I haven't been there this summer  
Santana: What the fuck was up with the stunt you pulled on Man Hands roof? And ur not forgiven btw.  
Quinn: Hey now, you know Queerio's don't fall, and I understand I plan to work on getting your forgiveness all year long.  
Santana: That's not funny  
Quinn: But I spent all morning working on it, what are you up to?  
Santana: I was going to gets my shop on.  
Quinn: All you wear is your Cheerios uniform why bother with more clothes when you have heaps already  
Santana: Most people don't enjoy looking homeless. Fucks up with your clothes atm?  
Quinn: Some of us are pretty much homeless, so fuck you_.

As soon as I send it I regret it. This piece of shit phone can't even cancel messages. I'm screwed. She isn't going to forget that anytime soon. Fuck I should have known how easily she can push my buttons and resisted the urge to txt her in this state. So I do the mature thing, I turn the phone off and throw it into the far corner where I can't reach it. Brittany spins around, now I can see words on her screen,

"That was probably the sensible option there Quinn try not to tell Everyone about your situation," What? How on earth can she? I look at the screen more closely, it clicks now. She is monitoring my phone. She follows may gaze

"yup, not going to apologize, I just suggest you don't sext." with that she turns back to her computer and I'm angry again. I want to txt Santana or Puck to bitch about Brittany but my phone is all the way over there. Damnit. I settle back and just stare at the ceiling.

The rest of the day was broken up by lunch and dinner. Otherwise it was pure exciting ceiling watching fun. I ask Brittany if puck can come over to play Xbox with, felt like I was fucking 10 again wanting a playdate. Ahaha just realized we even get the cliché slutty babysitter.

Dear Diary, today my friend Noah is coming over and he is gonna teach me how to pick up chicks, namely Santana. Also we are going to make spit balls and shoot them at the babysitter. Take that Brittany, how's them apples? Well that completes my mental diary entry for the day. Brittany passed my phone back late last night, and gave me a confused look when I asked Puck to bring paper. She is so going to get it today. I smile sweetly when she passes breakfast through the bars. She is now watching me warily, I am gonna be so fucking juvenile today it's not even funny. Who am I kidding, this will be hilarious.

**AN Also apologies about the pacing in this chapter, it was written while on the bus, then drunk, then hungover, then dirt tired. (The dedication is transferable due to dubious quaility).**


	16. Chapter 16

Brittany upgraded me from being locked in the basement to flat out grounded after Puck and I played spitball challenge. After five days of fuck all I was going stir crazy. She took the chain outta my leg after two days, I got an extra day for being a threatening dickhead. So I've been acting extra docile, I really want to go shopping today. Time to pull out the big guns,

"Hey Brittany, I know you grounded me, but"

"But nothing. You filled my hair with spitballs. It was like dealing with 6 year olds." I giggle and she glares at me.

"Sorry." I'm not sorry, it was fucking hilarious, "but I really need to go shopping for clothes for school."

"Why you are just going to be wearing your Cheerios uniform all year. For the one or two times you're not just borrow my stuff."

"Yea, I'm not on Cheerios this year. Fuck that."

"What? Why not?"

"Think about it, I have like no impulse control combine that with the short as skirts in fucking close proximity and lifts and shit ..." I pause to let that sink in, "So can I pretty please go buy some clothes?" I smile sweetly and wait.

"Yea I guess that makes sense," she turns and I think she is getting keys, but she also grabs her wallet and passes me a credit card "$250 max ok?" oh fuck yes, this means I can keep my little stash of money intact.

"Awesome, thanks heaps." I put my hand out and she jerks the card back. "But you can't go with Santana or Puck, your still in trouble for the spitballs." Damnit.

"Is Kurt ok?"

"Sure now fuck off." with that she hands me my phone, her credit card and opens the cage expectantly. Like now? She makes snap decisions quicker than I do. I grab a t shirt that doesn't have bloodstains and realize I don't own any shoes other than work boots. I'll put that on the shopping list. When I go to grab my keys she reminds me I'm still grounded. Bitch. It's like a ten minute run to the Hummel's and I don't have Kurt's number.

Fuck running in jeans and steel caps sucks. I'm sweating by the time I get there but I'm pretty sure I smelt before I left Brit's. I run my hands though my hair and fix my ponytail before knocking.

"Hey Burt, how are you? Is Kurt home?"

"I'm good, thanks for asking. Last I heard you were in a coma." he looks at me expectantly, I'm at a loss as to how to reply.

"Uh yea, but I woke up." it looks like he wants to say something,

"Wanna see the scars?"

"no that's fine, you are just looking very healthy quite soon afterwards." See this is why I don't talk to adults. They can actually see the big picture and are harder to distract and/or confuse. I lift the side of my shirt any way and show him about 6 inches of scar zone. It's worse down the bottom there and he looks thoroughly impressed. Doesn't say it though.

"I'll call Finn for you then, FINN." the last was yelled back into the house.

"Uh I wanted to see Kurt actually,"

"Finn can you get your brother for me?" Finn grumbles and walks off again.

"Hi Kurt, I was wondering if you could help me with some shopping today." I smile brightly and pretend I look like an actual member of society.

"Thank god. I was beginning to think you enjoyed looking like that." I'm debating whether or not to take offense before he continues, "But I will not come if we have to go in that god awful truck." Ha I knew it he hates that thing.

"I lost my car privileges this week and I really need clothes so can we take yours?" he takes pity on me and agrees. Success.

There was a spat over going to Wallmart rather than the mall. But I won that one with the argument of only having $250 and needing everything. I'm fucking sick of wearing borrowed underwear, besides I'm pretty sure Santana would recognise all of Brittany's stuff and have very negative reaction to me wearing it. Probably a lot like Brittany did with Santana's bra. Kurt informs me that although he will do his best this is a Wallmart and I will look cheap, therefore he will not be associated with my new look.

I would call today productive, not so sure about it from Kurt's perspective. I now have a few mix and match outfits for school, my own underwear and Kurt's word that he will try and talk Rachel out of her misplaced crush on me. I may have revealed too much when I asked him to drop me at Brittany's but fuck carrying the bags all that way.  
I get another nice surprise when I get back, Brittany's parents said I could join them for dinner. She told her parents I'm not a threat as an apology for my treatment this week. Given that the biggest act of revenge I took was spitballs in her hair, she may have a point. Dinner is nice, the conversation gets a little stilted at times as we avoid the huge elephant but it picks up as Tommy and I compare tips to annoy Brittany. Apparently repeating everything she says in a high pitched chipmunk voice is the best way to piss her off. I have no idea why I haven't discovered this already. As I eat I realize that I have never really interacted with her parents before. It was always a quick hi and bye before we went and hung out at my or Santana's house. I guess her parents don't like her dumb act with the level of dinner conversation those three were having. It's ok between Tommy and I we can generate enough stupid for the whole house. I ask if I can borrow his football gear for tomorrow, if I make the team I can get some gear off the school but tryouts will go easier if I can just start on pitch without much fucking about. When it becomes clear Brit and her parents aren't going to shut up about quantum theory anytime soon we sneak outside and play catch. Shit it's nice to feel normal.

School time. Fuck yes. But not really because I don't have to be up for another hour and a half. Fuck Brittany and her making me drive her to 6am Cheerios practice. I drop her off a block away from school. I don't want Santana seeing us and drawing the wrong conclusion. I go back and sleep on the living room couch until 7. This being treated like a person is Fucking Awesome. I think her parents like me, I mean Susan wouldn't have packed me a lunch if she didn't right? I put it in my bag, and head out. I strut into the halls of McKinely like I own the place. What I have is past the confidence that physically fit people have. It's the sheer arrogance that comes from knowing that I could beat down anyone in a 10 mile radius. Yea I got swag. That is until Rachel shows up with flowers for me. I'm putting my bag in my locker when it clicks there is nothing but food in there. No stationary whatsoever. Clever Quinn, I do a mental shrug and shut my locker. It's not like I'm going to Yale anymore anyway. As my locker shuts I see Rachel standing behind it. She is holding a bunch of gardenias tied with a green ribbon. She looks nervous,

"I know this is a repeat of your prom corsage but I picked that for you and it was perfect. So I wanted to give the perfect bouquet but from me time." she extends the flowers to me and beams. I resist the urge to smash my head into the lockers.

"I take it you haven't talked to Kurt today then."

"No I just couldn't wait to see you. I don't know why you have been avoiding me all week and your phone was cut off but we can hang out after school then maybe you could have dinner at my house." I can't stop the sigh this time.

"Rachel," I use her name because I am trying to be nicer this year, "We are friends. That is it. Nothing else. I'm going to take these as friendship flowers because my room smells really bad but please don't give me anything else."

"but Quinn our connection is so strong you must feel it." I'm starting to get annoyed.

"But nothing, talk to Kurt. If you are still confused then come see me in the parking lot at lunch time." I put the flowers in my locker and head to Spanish. Little did I know Santana saw the whole thing.

I sit down at the back. Mr Schue doesn't need my attention for the day. Santana sits down next to me. Mr Schue is definitely not getting attention today.

"Hola Quinn, is there any reason you're not in a Cheerios uniform? Did your peroxide bleach kill your alarm this morning?" From Santana that is a positive greeting.

"Nah I just wanted a different take on this year." I give her a big shit eating grin, she doesn't bite.

"No seriously, what the fuck are you doing out of a uniform? This is our year to run this shit heap."

"We both know I would have been Captain, maybe I'd prefer you on top."

"Bitch please I have more talent than you in my boobs. I'm always on top." Class has started while we were bantering, fuck just when it was getting good.

"I'll let you be on top of me anytime." I whisper that in her ear. She goes red. I have to say I think this is the first time I have ever seen Santana blush, sweet. Luckily for her Mr Schue cuts in.

"Quinn, where is your book?"

"I don't have one. Can I borrow some paper, and a pen?" he looks at me like I have three heads, "Uh please?" surely that's what he was waiting for. He states a bit longer before

"Just share with Santana."

Ten minutes after watching Santana copy down the sentences off the board with completely different grammar I can't resist. I slide my arm along hers and nick the pen.

_Can he even speak Spanish?_ I write under her work. I leave my right arm touching her left, giving her just enough movement to write, yay for lefties. She reads my messages and winces, before adding a _No_. I try to hold her hand but she is having none of it. Come on strong and don't give her time to panic was Puck's advice. Now I think about it Brittany did the same thing in her own way. _Care to give me some *private* lessons..._ She just pulls her book away and works by herself for the rest of the lesson. Her posture says she is open to suggestions but I have laid enough hints to sink a battle fleet. Innuendos and depth charges are pretty much the same thing right? Besides her last two serious relationships were her personality either getting dominated and slowly destroyed or just similar people with a similar goal. I'd rather let her choose me than force her to, I'll just steer her to the choice gently.

Between classes I borrow a book and pen from Brittany.

"Your bag was full this morning, how do you not have books?"

"Uh it was full of food."

"You fucking moron." I just laugh. Because seriously this is coming from Brittany. I go to calculus and doodle an hour away. I just can't bring myself to care anymore. Only people can go to uni.

Its lunch time so I head to the parking lot. I'm hoping Rachel has listened to Kurt, because I don't think she will talk to me nicely for a while after this if she hasn't. Which doesn't seem like a bad thing. There she is running towards me, shit she looks happy.

"I talked to Kurt, I don't know how he can't support our love. I know he is just jealous of our deep connection." and there we have it. Decision made. She steps forward again, our noses are almost touching and she is looking up into my eyes.

"I did warn you this was wrong Rachel."

"I..." I cut her off by picking her up bridal style. She squeals in delight and leans up for a kiss. I take two steps and toss her just before her lips touch mine. She squeals again but this sure wasn't positive. If she doesn't get the hint from a dumpster dive I don't think she ever will. I chuckle and turn away. I turn straight into Santana who takes a step back.

"Uh hi San, thirsty much?" I am not sure why she is here or why she is holding two huge slushies.

"Funny you should mention it Q, me and Finn here thought you and the midget might be thirsty after your make out session." I don't see Finn. I glance over my shoulder and see him lifting his ex out of the rubbish bin. Rachel does not look happy. She picks up one of Finn's, slushies oh I see where this is going now. I look back at Santana

"Never thought I'd see you side with them." she shrugs before helping them cover me in coloured ice. See now last year that would have devastated me. The shock from the cold, the blow to my status that even Fucking Rachel thinks she can attack me. Would have been fucking awful. Now I am used to cold showers and I kind of deserved it so, not fussed.  
I pull the soaked shirt off before all this frozen crap can drop down onto my jeans. The three of them are walking off, big and little as a pair, Santana off to the side. The way her ass is swaying gives me an idea. An awesome idea. I swirl my wet shirt and flick. I get her perfectly on the left cheek that right there is what I spent two years of home economics perfecting, fuck cupcakes. Santana yelps and claps a hand to her butt before spinning around and facing me. "sorry" I'm not sorry, "it's just such a sweet target." I smirk and walk shirtless through the carpark to my truck. She can take that any way she wants. I drop the wet shirt, swap it for a clean pe top from the tray and head into the cafeteria for lunch.

I sit at the glee table and conversations don't even pause. I sit down next to Kurt and Mercedes.

"Now I know that you didn't wear that to school today." Mercedes waves at my shirt, I start hoeing into my huge pile of food before shrugging.

"Yea, Rachel slushied me." that totally killed all conversation at this table. Everyone stared at me,

"What?" at least three people ask. I nod towards her and Finn walking towards the table. They are holding hands but they let go when they see the club watching.

"Go ahead, ask her," I want to watch this, should be fucking funny. Puck bites,

"Oi rach, is it true?"

"Why yes it is. Finn and I are back together after his gallant rescue of me mere moments ago."

"Really. Rescued how?"

"He pulled me out of the dumpster after Someone," she pauses and shoots daggers at me. "threw me in there." the table turns to me and I shrug.

"I warned her." I go back to food then pause. "And I think Kurt warned her." Wow this is like a soap opera.

"Was this before or after you slushied Quinn?"

"She put me in the dumpster then Finn pulled me out and we slushied her. Santana helped." she beams and everyone looks confused. Luckily the warning bell goes and we split up for class. Guess we will sort this in glee tomorrow.

By the end of the school day I have a kick ass stegosaurus across two pages and not much else. I jam everything into my bag and head to my truck to get Tommy's football gear. I change and head to the field. I get a few weird looks but puck calls me over to Coach Beiste,

"Yo is it all g if Quinn tries out?"

"I spent all last year trying to get you respectful and you greet me with yo?"

"Sorry coach." she looks at me,

"You can try out, but it's equality of opportunity not outcome got it?"

"Yes coach, thanks." she walks off to organize something, Puck looks confused so I explain,

"Means she doesn't give a shit who tries out, she is just going to pick the best."

"I want full gear laps, first ten to drop out are off the team." she roars and we all line up, try outs have begun. We run, jump, dodge, throw and sack each other until 6pm. Then she picks out teams from the last 20 of us left. We play 10 v 10 for a half hour with no stoppages. Fuck no wonder the team is significantly better than when Tanaka had it. Finally the whistle blows and we are called over.

"Alright you're all in. I'm looking for about thirty so there will be others in that aren't here. First string and positions will be posted tomorrow." with that we all head off toward our cars.

"Fabray, hang back a second." I trudge back and wait. "Why are you here?" Because Santana likes football players, because when I'm running and getting hit I forget about my other problems, because I love being in a team and I'd probably end up 'accidentally' molesting Cheerios.

"I just really like football Coach." "Bull, you don't even know the rules or plays or anything. Tell the truth or you're out."

"I love team sport, I like the adrenaline rush that comes with sidestepping a spear tackle, I like the roar of the crowd when we win for them, I like having my teams back like they have mine."

"That probably won't happen seeing as your female and in Glee." I shrug that can be tomorrows problem. "Have a nice evening."


	17. Chapter 17

I get home, and Brittany is waiting for me. This has to be the first time I have thought as this house as a home. Weird. In the time it takes me to process that Brittany is at my truck.

"Where have you been? It's nearly dinner time school finished hours ago." She sounds like a mother hen and I chuckle.

"Oi this is serious. If you don't have a good explanation your grounded." I try to put on a serious face but I still find this situation hilarious. I slide out the long way because I'm tired and sore.

"Trials ran late."

"Trials? What trials?"

"Football. I made the team by the way." Her jaw drops,

"You what?"

"I'm on the football team. I'm a Titan now." With that I grab all of Tommy's gear to put back in the garage.

Dinner is hot and tasty with nice conversation. In other words, fucking awesome. Brittany and I get dishes and I'm still slightly unnerved by how quickly I was absorbed into this family dynamic. I start to head down into my cave but she pulls on my arm.

"Let's do our homework in my room." She pulls me upstairs and her hand tingles on my arm. She pushes me onto the bed.

"What about homework?" I ask. I'm slightly dazed, and really rather turned on by her dominance.

"Well I've passed, and you don't even take books to school, so I'm reasonably sure you don't care." she draws the word care out as she straddles me. I'm now lying back on her soft bed with her ass resting in my crotch. It's the exact same position that she woke me up with months ago and it still feels wrong. I mean it feels so fucking right and when she leans in to kiss me I can't help to arc up and into it but. All of my thoughts sort of leak away when her tongue enters my mouth. She starts running her hands up and down my stomach, getting progressively closer to my bra each time. When her fingertips skim the bottom of it I snap. I firmly pull her hands out of my top and flip us so I am pinning her down. I hear her heartbeat increase and her breathing gets heavier, she doesn't smell scared though, just ... aroused. I kiss her this time and she moans into it.

I really want to keep going but her phone starts ringing. She immediately pushes me off and grabs it.

"Yes sir. Of course Sir. Right away Sir." Three bags full sir. I assume it's her base and settle back on the bed to wait while she takes it. Tonight is gonna be awesome. It won't be long now until we are naked and sweaty together. I shut my eyes and try to imagine it. With my eyes shut and senses on overdrive it's not Brittany I'm imagining.

It's Santana, with her dark flowing locks and her deep brown eyes. My eyes snap open and I sit up. That's right, this is totally wrong because a) I like Santana and b) I'm not entirely convinced Brittany thinks of me as a person. I sneak out of her room while she is on the phone and head down to my cave for a cold shower.

I'm still showering when she lets herself into the cave. I assumed she was going to do work on her computer but she turns off the water and wraps her arms around me from behind. Fuck. This is a worse situation than before.

"Mmm your all Wet." Shit not good, all I want to do is put some clothes on and go to sleep. But sure as shit I want to sleep as alone.

"Brit, in the nicest way possible. Fuck Off." She spins me around and pushes me back into the wall. "You don't mean that." She starts to kiss my neck, she is also giving her hands free roam. Fuck. It's distracting to say the very least. "Yes." I take a deep breath before gently grabbing both her hands and holding them at shoulder level, I don't push her back though as then there would be more space between us and she would be totally perving on me. "Yes I do. I would really like it if you would fucking stop hitting on me. Just because you are hot and get me going really quick does not mean I'm going to have sex with you." I let go of her hands. She takes the hint and steps back. Well thank fuck for that, yay for me I taught the uber smart psycho bitch something. She smirks at me before shaking head at me,

"Yea I will. You will slip up soon. You are more hormone driven than a 14 year old boy. But believe what you want." She turns around and starts up the computer. I guess not. But it's a temporary reprieve at least. Putting some clothes on I collapse onto my bed.

I get woken up by Brittany shaking my shoulder,

"Up and at 'em Quinn." I check my phone instead of answering. It's 5:45 am. Fuck this shit. I pull my blanket over my head. Her response is to pull it off me completely.

"Come on time to drive me to Cheerios." I moan unintelligibly but find some jeans. The singlet I slept in will pass for this time in the morning. I am so pleased not to be on the team this year.

"How did you manage last year?"

"Santana always drove me." Well that killed conversation. I drive her to school and ditch her at the front gates again. Brittany not driving herself has gotten old already. I head back to her house to sleep on the couch some more. I get woken up at 7:15 by puck txting me.

_Yo babe ready to find out your our pinup water boy? Put you in some tight as skank clothes and you can pass out the cups.  
Doubt it, ready to find out I snagged your spot and you are the towel bitch?  
I'll towel you, bitch.  
_After that I ignore him and start finding food for breakfast. Glee today should be fun. With that in mind I head to my truck. School time.

**AN I went from sitting around at work to working 60+ hours between two jobs. Moral of that story is less updates. Sorry. It will continue though.**


	18. Chapter 18

"Attention students. Please note the northern bathrooms has a family of snakes inhabiting it and therefore is not to used until further notice. Also Noah Puckerman and Quinn Fabray please report to coach Beiste's office immediately."

We glance across the room at each other before packing our shit up and leaving. See look I remembered a book today. Alright I just didn't remove it yesterday and there is only one but still. Improvement. We get to Beiste's office and she stands up,

"Your both in, first string too. My problem is which of you is half back and who is full."  
Holy shit. First string? This means starting Santana has to dig me right? Also yay team.  
"To decide, fitness test." Puck and I look at each other. Now Brit has fixed my limiter I feel pretty much normal at 4. So yea, we are both still sore and tired from yesterday's intense trials. "I figure you're both gonna be glory hogs and want half. Be on the field in five. Full kit."

We run suicides until we drop, practice running pass offs until we fumble every catch and basically work until we vomit. It's hell. Even coach Sylvester was never this harsh on recovery day. At this stage I don't even remember why I'm running. Finally Coach calls us to a stop,

"Alright anymore and it's child abuse. Puck you get half, Quinn fullback. Go hit the showers."  
I'm not sure how this will work being a chick and all,

"Uh..."

"Quinn have fun asking Sue for permission to use the Cheerios locker room." Fuck.

Having spent two and a bit periods running, there is no way I am going back to class without a shower. But this does mean talking to Sue. Which I have been studiously avoiding since not showing up for trials. I enter her office cautiously,

"Hi Coach, I was wondering if I could ask a favour,"

"Sit." Alright that doesn't seem particularly negative. I take the chair casually and then wince when i realise the only time I ever won an argument with her it was standing. I wait for the inevitable tongue lashing, but it doesn't come. she is just sitting there and watching me, it's as though she is mentally dissecting me searching for all my flaws. After having Brittany start to properly dissect me it isn't as scary as it would have been last year. She is still intimidating as hell though.

"After losing my National winning streak last year, you have the audacity to waltz right into my office smelling of failure and simply ask for a favour?" I open my mouth but she cuts over me. "You are a disappointment Fabray. Dismissed."

Alright so that didn't go as planned. "I was going to be polite and ask if I could use the Cheerio's locker room after football, but whatever. I still have a key." I get up and walk towards the door counting in my head 3, 2 and ...

"Hold it right there Sweat sack." Wow she is totally inventive today. I guess the shock of her former head cheerleader playing football may scare the ideas out of her head. "That locker room is for Cheerios only, I don't want you to stink it up with the smell of quitter." Bingo, I can work with this.

"You know why you lost last year? It wasn't because you were missing your three best Cheerleaders, it was because you had planned your routine around that stupid canon. What if this year you were able to fire that canon?"

"What are you suggesting Fabray?" I'm pretty sure she gets it, but she can't legally ask me to climb in there I have to offer.

"I can use all the Cheerios facilities and in return you can fire me out of that canon if you so choose."

She looks at me, then shrugs. "I want you to show up to the morning trainings. They don't clash with football to prevent accidents." Fuck. "You are also bottom of the pyramid." First good thing to come out of this meeting.

"I'm not wearing my uniform outside of trainings."

"Acceptable. Now get all the way out of my office this time." She looks back at her laptop and completely ignores me. I head off for a heavenly shower.

I sleepwalk through the rest of my day. At the rate I'm going I might challenge Brit's 0.0 GPA. I trudge to glee, I'd be concerned by all the super rumours that are flying about at the moment but I just spent half of AP calculus trying to pick up a pen that wasn't there. I really need to see if I can drop the difficulty of my classes, cab maths would be so much nicer. Mercedes and Kurt can take their gossip off a cliff for all I care. Getting to the choir room early I see that no one else is here. Score. Nap time. I drop my bag on the floor slump into a chair and get some much needed rest.

"Quinn wake up," there is a gentle shake on my shoulder to go with the words, but I know how this story goes and I'm not having a bar of it.

"Fuck off Brittany, for the last time I'm not fucking sleeping with you." I pull my blanket over my head and roll over to go back to sleep. Thud. "Owww," Oh shit. Judging by the cocoon I'm in, I just pulled my top onto my head. That in itself isn't too bad, I've lost all my bedding before. No, my problem is the falling to a vinyl floor and the collective gasp at my words, why are there people where I'm sleeping. Think Quinn where did you fall asleep. Last thing is... School. I want to look and confirm this because since last summer what I remember and where I wake up don't always correspond but I'm stuck in my stupid tops. After a few seconds of trying to pull it down I give up and take them off leaving me in just a bra.

"Quinn! Put your clothes back on." Well that answered my question. I am currently lying half naked on the choir room floor. The looks on everyone's faces is priceless. With the exception of Mr Schuester I know they have all seen me in less thanks to Berry's party. So why are they looking at me like this. Then it clicks, my wake up comment. Oops. Puck looks like he is about to wet himself he is laughing that hard, Brittany looks pissed and everyone else is sitting between shock and interest. How do I get myself into these situations.

"Oh hey Schue, didn't see you there." his face goes all purple as I stand up, separate my tops and put the singlet then tshirt back on. "Sorry for disrupting, what was today's lesson?"  
I can see his jaw work, but I guess he decides to drop it.

"Recruitment. With Sam transferred and Lauren quitting we need new members for the club. I have some ideas but as always I'm open to suggestions. Santana, Finn think you could get anymore of your team mates to join this year?"

"With the way Coach hates you Mister? Be happy with the three you have got." Santana didn't even look up to answer him.

"Sannie, it's just me and you this year I'm pretty sure that's two." Brittany adds quietly. Santana glances at me and I realise of course she knows, she is the captain. Mmm she can be my Captain of anything... I don't continue down that train of thought. Instead I quickly put one finger to my lips where she can see it but Brit cant.

"Two, whatever." Santana is back to filing her nails. she doesn't glance in Brittany's direction once.

"Finn? Your my main man who have you got for me this year?" Schue's obvious favouritism sucks. Maybe this is why no one joins.

"I dunno man, you already have most of the starters. Amizo has everyone else under wraps."

"That's ok, because I have a plan. Bring 'em in guys," Six boys that are clearly high push three purple pianos into the room. The point where Schue starts comparing us to repo'd pianos is where i go back to sleep. Fuck this shit it's going to be a terrible plan.

I get woken up by Puck throwing a shoe at my head. He knows me well as he flips me the finger and runs off. Good choice there. It begs the question of who's shoe this is though. There are three people in the room, Brittany and Rachel chatting in a corner and Santana standing near the door. Sure enough she only has one shoe on. She is definitely my Cinderella.

"Hurry up Q you can't drive in that condition and I'm betting you don't want a lift from the midget or the slut." She has a point. I toss her shoe back and we sneak out before the other two notice.


	19. Chapter 19

I climb into Santana's car, alone time is going to rock. Thanks to my back to back power naps I'm totally fine.

"Where to Q? Mine or yours?" I cough, yea I bet she would totally rock hanging out in my cage at Brittany's house. I really should tell her that I live there soon. Otherwise there could be terrible misunderstandings.

"Yours would be cool. Can you help me with the Spanish work I missed today?" she rolls her eyes,

"Pur-lease that grease ball can barely manage the taco bell menu, just right down some colours, numbers and greetings and you will be fine."

"Is he really that bad?" she gets a sneaky grin,

"I once wrote out Goldilocks instead of an essay on Mexico, all I did was swap bears for city name and I got an A+. It's fucking embarrassing to see him try."

"Goldilocks? Seriously?"

"Yup, it was hilarious I showed my dad and he nearly called the school to get my grade dropped." I hi five her and we both chuckle.

"But in all seriousness can we go to yours? There is a fair bit I'd like to tell you."

"Like where the fuck were you this summer? You drop off the face of the earth three weeks before school finishes, Brittany of all people says you're in a coma and you show up a week before school looking like dirt trying to pretend nothing is wrong." She takes a deep breath about to continue, but I cut over her.

"All of that. I want to tell you all of that." She looks at me and doesn't say a word. The rest of the drive to her house is silent.

"Mami, Papi I'm home." Santana waltzes though the door and dumps all her school shit in the hallway. "And I brung Quinn over. We're just going to hang in the tree fort ok?"

"It's brought Sannie, but have fun you two." Mrs Lopez has always been nice. Santana drags me into the backyard. She scrambles up into the fort. Now I know there is some significant reason for her picking the fort but I don't remember why as she starts climbing up the rope ladder. Hot damn her ass is fine. And from this angle she may as well not be wearing a skirt... My thoughts are interrupted as she reaches the top. I'm totally busted for staring.

"Like what you see, Perve?" I flush and start climbing. Oops.

She pulls the ladder up after I'm in and flips the trapdoor shut. Just like when we were little. She moves part of the solid wall to pull out a tin of weed. Not like when we were little. I'm not getting stoned again. Even thinking about it makes my heartbeat increase. Intellectually I know that Brittany isn't going to jump out from the corner and start playing with my insides but my body doesn't seem to know that.

"Want some Q?" I shake my head. "Always the Christian goodie two shoes." she starts rolling a smallish joint. "If you want to share, share. This is just to mellow me out so I don't murder you for your bullshit."

_Santana's Pov - I cannot believe the shit that is coming out of her mouth. Does she seriously expect me to believe that her mum ditched her while she was in a coma so Brit's parent adopted her. And then she realised she was gay so spent the summer road working and trying to not sleep with my ex girlfriend. What the fuck is wrong with her. But... When I was given the squad list by Coach she was listed under Fabray-Pierce. Something is seriously wrong here. Like what situation would ever lead to this. I keep smoking the joint because without being stoned off my face I would get up and punch her over that stupid low rail. I calm down with the idea of her flipping over and shplat. Maybe calm isn't the right word. But I'm mellow enough not to enact my fantasy. Instead I just blow smoke rings at her. I mean I was trying for rings, it ended up more like a weird blob._

_I expect her to cough and try and waft the smoke away. Not start fitting. I know Quinn and she isn't epileptic and has no history of shit like this. I get up to go help her, not sure what I can do but I have to do something. Before I reach her she thrashes over the railing. Oh shit oh shit oh shit. I look over the rail. She is on the ground not moving. She should be moving. Why the fuck isn't she moving._

I wake up, fuck I'm sore. It's intense muscle pain through my upper back, shoulders and especially my neck. Oh and I am in my bed in the basement again. I vaguely wonder how I got here but I'm pretty sure someone, namely Brittany will tell me why I woke up here. I stretch and roll my muscles, and the pain slowly fades. Last thing I remember was having a heart to heart with Santana, SHIT, how much did I tell her. Now I'm slightly concerned, I'm really hoping I didn't tell her about my huge crush on her. I do realise I have screwy as priorities, yes I should be concerned about her find out what a freak I am, but shit Puck knows and the world hasn't turned to shit yet. Also, then I wouldn't have to lie to her about it, honesty is nice.

Honestly I'm hungry. Now my neck doesn't hurt I want food. I am guessing that I suffered some kind of horrible injury, because waking up partially undressed in Brittany's basement is generally a result of something traumatic. I find a shirt in the dirty pile that passes the sniff test and pull it on. My cell phone goes into my pocket because Brittany likes to be able to creep call me "I know where you are," is a reasonably common way to start a conversation with her... Anyway, phone, wallet and shoes on, I am so ready for a late night McD's run. I'm about to leave when I see Santana on the living room couch. Fuck she is beautiful when she is asleep, like she is damn fine awake but when she is asleep all the anger barriers are gone and her serene features are breath taking. Unfortunately for me she wakes up while I'm staring.

"Thank fuck you're ok. Now why the fuck were you watching me sleep?"

"Uh, food run. Wanna come?" She stares at me, her hair is all messed up from sleep, its sweet. I haven't seen her this unkept since our last sleep over. She kinda shut me out after I got pregnant. While I have been staring at her pretty pretty face she checked her phone.

"It's like 2AM in the morning. Where the fuck you planning to go?"

I give her my best shit eating grin, "There is only one place to go at this time of the day." She raises one eyebrow, "McDonalds."

**AN - Two things. 1 - I would like to apologise for the shortness of this chapter, it was intended to be significantly longer. 2 - The reason this is out today instead of waiting until after I do all my catch up study is cos I got a review today. So yea, all reviews are totally appreciated.**

**2.5 - Borinsiot, you are still the coolest imaginary friend I've got.**


	20. Chapter 20

"So I would like one double pounder, a mountain of fries ... And a super sized drink. Ooh and three apple pies. Do you want anything San?" she is looking at me oddly.

"What the fuck is a double pounder?" Stacey handles this one for me as I jump the counter and pour myself a drink. Got to love post mix machines.

"It's like a quarter pounder, but with eight patties. It's artery clogging goodness." Santana looks at me,

"That is fucking disgusting. No I don't want any McDonalds. Why are you on that side of the counter loser?"

"I get heavy boxes off high shelves for this midget, and in return my food is cheaper. Pick a table and I'll be with you in a minute."

In the time it takes the fry boy to make my meal I move four 50lb boxes of fries down to easy heights, steal another drink and sit across from Santana in the shiny red booth.

"So I may have kind of lied a bit to you today." she looks like she is going to start yelling so I hold my arms up in a gesture of peace and rapidly continue. "But I had a legit good reason too. Plus now I can tell you the truth so it's better." she is looking pretty sceptical, but less like she is about to start yelling at me. So I tell her about my summer, starting with Brit crying on the phone all the way up to Rachel's stupid party. I leave out the fact I joined the football team because Puck says letterman jackets are a turn on for her, but I do include the fact that for a solid month Brittany decided my bed was more comfortable than hers. Because although she looks decidedly unimpressed about it I can barely imagine her reaction if she were to find out from Brit later.

"So uh, yea... My life is all types of fucked and your psychotic ex thinks she owns me. How was your summer?" She blinks and snakes the last fry to avoid answering immediately.

"Well, better than yours. Clearly." She looks up and smirks. It doesn't reach her eyes though. "In all seriousness it was pretty shit. Lonely as, it sucked ass. I dumped Brit hard, then went looking for you. The only news I got of you was lies from her." From the look in her eyes I can see she is all torn up on the inside. I don't even think about it I just take her hand to give her some comfort. She relaxes and grips it before she realises we are in a public place and drops it. We get up awkwardly, something has shifted between us.

"Want you walk home?" I ask, because Brittany's couch isn't particularly comfortable.

"What?"

"Well that couch sucks ass and we have early morning Cheerio's, figured you might want your bed, hence would you like me to walk you home."

"Ah." She squints at me before opening her mouth, "You said, actually never mind. No I can't go home at 3AM on a school night. My parents would kill me."

"So... Brit's?" She shrugs and we leave the grease pit.

I unlock the door and we sneak in. I'm pretty sure Brit gets an alert on her iPhone whenever I leave or enter the house but I don't want to wake her parents. Now that I'm allowed in the house they treat me like one of their own. Which is great but I don't want to be grounded. I start heading down the stairs towards my cell when I realised Santana is still right behind me.

"Um..."

"You're right. That couch is terrible to try and sleep on. Can I sleep with you?" Yes, YES one thousand times yes! "Wait that came out wrong," That's what she said Hey-o. "Can I crash in your basement?" Well that is so much less exciting.

"Sure, just remember it's a wee bit creepy." We get down there and she gasps. "See, creepy." Well to me it is totally home, but I can see how the solid steel bars and the dirty mattress seem kind of like a horror movie set. She grabs my arm and leans into me. She seems to take some subconscious clues off me as she doesn't totally freak out. "You can go upstairs if you want, you don't have to stay in the science dungeon." She looks likes that is really tempting but shrugs.

"This is normal for you right?" I nod. "So we good."

Flopping forward onto my bed I flip my blanket so the dirty side is up.

"Tadaa!" Jazz hands will fix this right?

She kicks off her shoes and crawls in next to me.

"I'm not sure if I really want to ask, but why is your bed filled with dirt?"

"I can explain. You see it was mud, but then I slept in here and my body heat dried it out... After about a week."

"Ew."

"Hey now, it is totally clean dirt. Promise. And the couch is still on offer."

"Thanks but no." I'm almost asleep when, "Oh and Quinn? Don't read too much into this. I don't think I can deal with a relationship right now."

I'd believe her more if she wasn't snuggling the shit out of me.

It's the temperature difference that wakes me, it may have been the light for Santana. The blanket is ripped off us by a pissed looking Brittany.

"Wow, you move quickly Quinn. What was like two days ago you had me in there?" I snort because this is exactly why I told Santana immediately. I know what a bitch Brittany can be these days,

"Nah, I'd say closer to two weeks. Ever since I filled it with mud." I feel my side shaking, wait. That's just Santana laughing.

"That is brilliant." Brittany just rolls her eyes.

"Whatever, you need to drive me and Santana to Cheerio's." I start laughing and reclaim my blanket.

"Yea, my car is sitting in the parking lot have fun."

"Urgh." She kicks me in the side. Pretty soft though because she is barefoot.

"Alright going back to sleep now."

Santana and Brittany head up the stairs to go beg a lift off Susan. There is a weird tense distance between them. While I am totally happy that I have a shot at Santana it sucks that they lost their best friends. My pocket vibrates.

_Santana - Coach says you better have your ass on the field this morning._

Fuck. I get up, jam a Cheerio's uniform, football training clothes and some normal clothes into a bag before leaving the house. I jog to the school and quickly change behind the bleachers.

"Good to see you could be bothered joining us Lucy. Get your fat ass in with the freshmen." This is awesome. Means I won't have any interaction with Brittany in all of the routines.

All this jumping and flipping is nowhere near as soul crushingly hard as it used to be. The last time I was on the bottom of the pyramid it felt like my bones were about to compress. Today I can just chill without the huge amount of concentration it used to require. I can totally watch Santana from here.

School sucks. I've never struggled before and now I can't even concentrate in class. I get a call from Pete so I excuse myself from class to answer it, "You want some after school work? There is a bunch of trees with you and Dave's names on them. "

"Yeah, sure."

"Cool, pick him up from the rink at 6, practice should be done by then." What am I a taxi?

"Yea sure thing."

I head back into class. Shit. I was gone two minutes and I can't follow any of the maths on the board this really isn't good. I make a real effort to get notes that will help me later. Which means I try and not stare at Santana's boobs when she isn't looking. My notes are passable but it doesn't feel like I'm retaining any of this information. Maybe Tina or Brit can tutor me. Eh at least I can't fail glee. I am so fucking hyperactive. I can't concentrate for more than ten seconds. Well I manage a minute while Rachel starts singing a song, she is fucking hilarious. I'm pretty sure she is singing to me but because I have never been on the receiving end before I can't stop laughing. I really shouldn't have given her that puppy. Although the fact that no one changed the name quick enough so it still responds to Lucifer still cracks me up. Oh she finished. She is looking at me expectantly, scratch that everyone was looking at me.

"That was um... A nice song?" I look around me Santana is face palming and Brittany is laughing. Now I look again Tina is shaking as she tries to suppress laughter. Shit what did she just sing to me.

_Puck - I didn't think the Beiber experience would work twice. Baby baby baby oh! LOL Retard._

Aw, Fuck my life. Why can't I pay attention to anything today. It isn't like I've done anything special today. Wait that would be it, I haven't exercised much today. Like Cheerio's doesn't even count anymore. So maybe cutting down trees tonight with Dave might help. I'll run this one past Brit tonight. For now I just have to go sit on Puck's lap to hide from Berry. She could have sat near me in any of the empty seats.

**AN - So the updates should become more frequently as I became redundant. Be fun unemployment time. Also Boringsiot, just no that is my unemployment fallback plan. Also I will take suggestions, if they fit I can use it. I do like reviews so continue please.**


	21. Chapter 21

"Why do we have to go to English? We already speak English." Hot damn I agree with Puck on the educational front. This is not a good thing as I understand that school isn't just a place for daytime naps and hot chicks my age to gather. Well intellectually I understand this, right now I'm trying to figure out when so many hotties snuck into my English class. No I need to focus. I'm supposed to be reading this stupid book. Puck flicks me a note _8 o'clock_. I can't help it, I look. Oh wow, from this angle it looks like Missy is about to spill out of her top. From that point on I can't even make words out in 1984. I do get a txt from Brit asking what I'm looking at. Swear to god she could give Big Brother and the fucking mind police a run for their money. My phone vibrates again.

_Rachel - Would you like to come to breadsticks with me?  
Quinn- ur shout? When?  
_Free food is free food, let's see how never ending the salad is now.  
_Rachel - As the initiator of the date I do believe it is tradition for me to pay as to when are you free Friday?  
_Date? Oh shit, fuck this._  
Quinn - umm, busy. I am permanently busy.  
_

School finally finishes so I can head home. I search my bag and pockets for my keys but I am reasonably sure they are sitting in Santana's tree house. Fuck going back there. In fact I probably never need to get my car keys. But I might need the house keys back at some stage. I make a mental note to txt her about that later and head to my car. She is already at my car. "Can I get a lift home?"

"Sure we just have to wait for Brittany, we can wait in the car though." I jump in my window and unlock her side.

"What are you doing tonight?" I can't tell whether this is genuine interest or silence filler as she is playing with her phone.

"Dinner then work from 6."

"Oh, ok." She sounds disappointed, I guess it was interest then. Santana is hard to get a read on when she wants to be.

"If it's important I can probably blow off work."

"Nah, just wanted another chat."

"Dave can prob deal by himself. I'll just need to lend him the truck and I can be with you all night."

"Desperate much? Go to work Quinn. Santana and I need to talk things out anyway." That's Brittany rudely cutting into our private conversation.

"Thanks for your input. Santana can you get out for a sec so Brit can climb through into the back seat?" Brittany gives me a death glare. Yes I have never cleaned the back seat of this truck there is probably filth from ten years ago sitting there, if we weren't in school grounds she would just sit in the tray. Santana jumps out and flicks her seat forward with a flourish.

"Hope your tetanus injections are up to date."

"Why do I have to sit back there?"

"I'm driving and Santana gets out first, ergo you sit in the pile of crap."

"Bitch."

The drive home is quiet and tense. They really do need to talk out the hate between them. Well maybe hate isn't quite the right word, I guess pain would be better. I pull up outside Santana's house.

"Thanks for the lift. I'll txt you later."

"No worries. Hey could you take a look for my keys? I think they got left here last night." She gives me a bit of a worried look.

"Pretty sure you need keys to drive Q."

"Hah shows how far you live from the Heights. I just hotwired it."

"Bitch please. I'm so Lima Heights that people just give me their cars so I don't cut them." I open my mouth to reply when Brittany cuts in.

"You are both middle class retards. Cut the shit and get out Santana so Quinn can drive me home. It's been a long day." Santana and I exchange a glance. She shrugs and gets out.

"Laters Q." I watch her ass as she walks to the front door. Presumably Brit climbed into the front seat but for all the attention I was giving her she may as well have teleported.

"We going?"

I have had many conversations with Brittany I don't like. Gotta say this is the worst so far. She is asking me about my sex life. I'm not sure if the questions or my answers are more embarrassing.

"When was the last time you had sex?"

"With Puck. Two years ago. Would you like to change that question to the only time?"

"Seriously? Wow. Moving on. When did you last get off?" She has a clipboard and is totally serious. I don't really want to answer this one. Well this whole conversation is fucking terrible. It came from nowhere as well. We get home from Santana's I go into my room to change into work clothes, nek minnit she has the clipboard out. There is no way I am letting her know the answer to that is never and the closest I've gotten is probably when I woke up with her on top of me. Well before she slapped a tooth out of me. How to get out of this smoothly without raising suspicion?

"No this conversation is over." I run out the door, dukes of hazard it into my truck and speed off. Really the only way I could have been more immature about this would be adding a Rachel Berry stomp and covering my ears yelling nah nah nah not listening. Maybe I should try that the next time she tries to have a sex talk with me. As a result of my storm out I'm at Carmel early. I figure watching practice is way less creepy than sitting in the car park waiting.

Holy shit hockey looks like fun. It's fast, it makes infinitely more sense than football and fighting is pretty much accepted as part of the sport. No wonder Rick normally beats Puck in their semi regular throw downs. As I wait for Dave to change out of his practice gear I wonder if I could join the McKinley team. Nah all those guys are dickheads, unlike the football team which is only like half.

"Hey Blondie, oh shit Quinn? What are you doing here? Please don't hurt me!" What do you know, it's Chuck.

"Hey bro long time no see." I wave politely but stay where I am with my hands in plain sight. Not sure what his deal is, but it looks like he is shitting bricks, "Why would I hurt you? I didn't even know you went to school, let alone here."

"Oh thank fuck. The other test subjects were hair trigger crazy. Naw I"

I ruthlessly cut over him "Other?" I take a step towards him. This is the first time I have heard any mention of other tests.

"I mean the test data indicates mental instability." That sounds like he is dodging something there, I'm about to question further when Dave comes up behind me. "You ready Quinn?" "Uh..." he smells terrible. "We are wasting day light." I give Chuck a death glare to let him know we aren't finished before following Karofsky.

"Dude, you still haven't fixed the door?"

"Noooooope!"

"Moron, pretty sure all it needs is busting off and the hinges replaced."

"Whatever. What are we doing tonight?"

"I'm a lumberjack and I'm ok I work all night and I sleep all day." So many things wrong with Dave singing that.

"First off, you know that's about cross dressing right? So maybe don't sing it around the jocks at your school. Secondly I'm pretty sure it's sleep all night and work all day." He grins at me.

"Sleep in school. We are gonna get some sweet cash for this." He totally ignores the comment about cross dressing. The dude from McKinley would have flipped at that.

"Some sweet cash for what?"

"De-treeing some paddocks out in the wops. We get like $500 a paddock." He catches my look, "Not that far out, just far enough that we can run a chipper and chainsaws into the night."

"Oh so we can get hideously murdered slasher flick style."

"Yup, just so you know I'm going to hide behind you."

"Thanks."

"Oh anytime." He pulls up at the workshop and waits patiently for me to get out. "Just the chipper and the wood tools, doll." Now I know he is fucking with me, so I blow him a kiss before following instructions. I hitch the trailer on, plug in, d bolt locked, three out of four lights working. Set. The big and little chainsaws go in the tray along with a few different axes and the machete. Whatever tree we find is going to get destroyed. Jumping back in the truck I lean over to fake kiss him,

"We are all packed darling." Before I can reach his cheek however he flinches away.

"Joke. It was a joke."

"Bro anyone would think you were allergic to girls." Dave shrugs.

"Oh." I think about it for awhile. "So I'm not judging at all, I'm just curious as to how that works with your obvious homophobia." Because I do know how it feels to lie to yourself every day, it hurts and you lash out. Everyone is a target especially those who would question you or challenge you to sort your shit out. But what he did to Kurt is irredeemable. The trip is in utter silence, we get out and he marks the trees with spray paint. Dave walks back to the truck before beginning to speak.

"I hate it. I hate what I have done, not just to Kurt but to everyone. But especially Kurt." He isn't looking at me, rather he is searching the tray to avoid it. "I just. Fuck. I nearly broke him." He is sobbing now and not even pretending to look for shit. "What if I had, before I accepted who I was. What if I hadn't recognised I was the problem not him." He slumps onto the ground. I really don't know what to do here. So I do what I can, use snarky words.

"Well you didn't. And from the way you're talking you never will. As for you being the problem, I personally see you as less of a problem and more of a fucking idiot these days. Apologise to the people you hurt, not me," I reach down and pull him up, "come on, let's murder us some trees."

Over all Karofsky looks happier, like a weight was lifted off his shoulders with his scarily deep revelation. Which is weird as its now past 1:30 and we are working by the truck head lights. We have gotten two smallish trees down and we are de-branching the trunks with hand tools. The plan is that we get the branches off, chip them into a pile then call it a night. Our major problem is that we are out of petrol in the chainsaws, so we are using honest to god hand tools. Maybe honest labour does make an honest man, or maybe this is considerably easier with an axe than it is with this damn machete.

"Fuck this bro, I'm chipping what we've got. there is no way I want to see the sunrise before I go to school."

"I think we are near done with the little stuff. If your weak womanly arms can deal with it chipping is a great plan."

I sneer at him "With these twin hellfire cannons I can do anything." Unlike many teenage boys he doesn't get the reference. I snort and fire the chipper up. Branches go in and chunks come out, branches go in and chunks come out, I get a steady rhythm going. Branches go in and ... chunks don't come out. The fucker is jammed. I wiggle the end of the branch which achieves precisely nothing. I really don't want to open the whole thing up to get it umjammed because seriously, there is like two more branches after this one. I do a quick scan to make sure Dave isn't looking and I kick the branch. It starts to move so I kick it again, and again, I line up for one final kick and bang the branch is through.

So is my foot.

AN - Hahaha I'm a dick for leaving it there. However I'm tired and I'll try and update this tomorrowish. It was going to be sooner but I was sleeping on the couch pretending to look for a job. Then it was going to be the weekend but I went snowboarding. Then it was going to be the week after but I did the rotator cuff boarding, then trashed it more at the dance party for my mates 21st.

I would like to add that pretty much every time I see a review or a follow I feel morally obligated to write more.


	22. Chapter 22

Well that was a lie. My foot didn't go through the chipper. More just in. The blade is making a horrible crunching grinding noise against the steel cap in my work boot. I have never been more grateful to be wearing these things. It's the noise that alerts Dave. He rushes over to hit the bright red emergency stop button. Firmly gripping the sides of the chute I slowly pull my foot off the blade, with a wet pop I fall backwards.

"Oh fuck are you ok?"

"Yea fine bro." I pull the shoe off to check my foot. There are three huge cuts, two on the right and one on the left. Holy shit it's bleeding heaps. "Wanna call it a night?"

Dave doesn't reply. He is just staring at my foot. I go from sitting on the ground staring at my mangled foot to lying down staring at the stars. How many people know now? This is going to be the worst kept secret in Lima, the rate I'm going. I hear hyperventilating, that's right Dave doesn't know. When he asked if I was ok he probably meant more if I was injured than 'are you going to turn into a mad rage beast' which is more what Brittany means when she asks.

"Yo Dave, I'm Fine." I put extra emphasis on the fine to try and snap him out of panic mode. "Can you please just pass the first aid kit, I'll bandage this up and we can head home." I hear movement behind me and then he picks me up and places me gently in the truck bed. Having big friends is cool. I peel the sock off and a huge flap of skin comes with it. "Ew."

Bluargh. I look away from my foot. Dave has just made a huge pile of vomit, luckily for me he missed the first aid kit. Poor guy, this must look even worse from his perspective. Thanks to be being a super freak I can see the tendons and bones knit back together. But because of Brittany's genius plan to make me look more normal the skin isn't. Fuck it, I just tape the skin down and bandage it up. Slipping the shoe back on I ask Dave, "Yo bro can you drive to yours? This will suck ass with Manual."

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Normal people go 'ahh fuck, let's go to the fucking hospital'."

"Nah hospitals are for pussies." That is the best response I can make without explanations.

"All right, let's say I play along and I drive to my house. Then what? Are you planning to sleep on my couch and stagger to school tomorrow?"

"Nope, I was just gonna drive home in First."

"Seriously?"

"Yup."

"Fucking retard."

"Yup."

Dave is right, driving in first is shit. But I get home eventually. I sneak in the front door and creep down to the basement, my phone says its nearly 4AM. If I blow off Cheerio's I can probably manage three and a half hours of sleep.

I can smell BO, dirt and blood. It is really fucking gross, also it's coming from me. Grosser. There is another kick to my side, "Quinn!" Goddamn is Brit loud in the mornings.

"Go away, I'm sleeping." I shift the pillow from under my head to over my head. She rips it out of my arms. "What?"

"Time to drive us to Cheerio's."

"Or not, I got in late. Drive yourself."

I get another kick to the side, this one not gentle. "Deal is you drive me, then go for a run to burn off your excess energy before school. Sooo Up." She waves her arms in a sweeping upward movement before they settle on her hips.

"Well I got plenty of exercise last night, so if you can kindly fuck off I have sleep to catch up on." I pull my smelly workshirt over my head to block the light. There is some background noise from the desk before the light goes off and the door slams. Score one for me.

My alarm goes off at 7:20 which gives me just enough time for a power shower, scoff some breakfast and speed to school. Naturally I take a long shower and spend five minutes looking for cleanish jeans. Fuck. I have 12 minutes to be in class. Jamming a box of Cheerio's into my backpack I head outside to my truck. I can eat cereal on the way.

It's not there. The street in front of the house is totally empty. If I don't get to school it counts as non compliance with Brit's rules and I get locked in the basement for a while. I drop my bag and run back into the house. Then I find Brittany's note.

_Hi Quinn, I borrowed your truck to drive me and San to training this morning. Ta xox_

Well at least it's not stolen.

**AN There is a grand total of one point I was trying to make with this chapter, ten points to whoever gets it. **


	23. Chapter 23

I hate every second of the drive to school on Brit's bike. I do however like the shocked looks on my peers faces when I chain it to the bike rack. Being a trail bike there is no kick stand so she can deal with the indignity of having her practice bike next to the bicycles. At least one of the scabs on my foot cracked when I hit the kick start so I limp to my locker. Busting out the cereal I start stuffing my mouth with wheatie goodness.

"Hey fattie what you got first?" Puck is at school on time. This has got to be a first.

"Bro I love Cheerio's in the morning. And English, I think."

He starts laughing "You brung your breakfast to school just to make that joke? That is brilliant."

"No I was going to eat it in my car but, some blonde bitch jacked my truck." His eyes widen as he looked over my shoulder. I turn just in time for Santana to slam me into the lockers. Wow, I have fantasised about this a lot. She is going to kiss me, I'll get slightly handsy but we will keep it PG until we ditch school and spend the day in bed together. Fuck scratch that more like the week. I'm busy thinking of all the possibilities which is why I don't see the slap coming.

"You slut, you fucking bitch!" Wait what? "You spent the last week trying to hit on me, telling me some bullshit story about how you love me then you spend the whole night out fucking?"

"I? What the fuck are you talking about?" I'm still kinda tired and I have no idea what she is on about.

"I'm talking about you having an 'elevated heat rate' from 8 until 3, with breaks for cooling off. Oh and an 'adrenaline peak' at a quarter past three in the fucking morning."

I step towards her, "You listening to Brit now?"

She waves her hands at me as I step sideways, my foot doesn't like the weight and I stumble slightly.

"I don't have to, anyone can read a fucking graph. You can't even walk this morning!" I'm speechless did she think this up herself or am I going to have to start fucking with Brittany again. I see her coming down the hall with a self satisfied smirk. Oh yea, this is clearly her fault. I've been walking a pretty fine line with Brittany but this is making me want to push it. Santana is looking at me like I kicked a puppy. With Brit closing in I know I'm going to need a little time to convince her, besides I'm no good with my words anymore. I slip the shoe off my uninjured foot and flick it into Brittany's gut. That will buy me a few seconds. I step forward and grab Santana's hips pulling her into me. Looking deep into her eyes I tell her,

"It's only you." Then I kiss her. Praise be it is the single most perfect thing I have ever felt. It's perfect, beautiful and stunning just like her. I'm trying to convey the depth of my emotion when she pushes my shoulders. I stop immediately. Fuck I screwed up. "I just, just fucking. I don't know anything. All I know is I do care about you and I want to be able to prove it."

Brittany has reached us but that's ok because Santana doesn't seem like she totally hates me right now. With the shit that Brit has been feeding her this seems like positive, "So I was working last night, kinda messed up my foot."

"Working It?" Brittany smiles at me. What a bitch.

"Nope, lumberjacking. Can I have my shoe back?"

"Oh what's it worth to you baby?" Ha, now Santana can see what I put up with on a daily basis.

"Not a damn thing." Smiling sweetly I slip the other shoe off and jam it in the locker next to the half box of cereal. Socks on or socks off? Looking down the right one has blood seeping through it, but the foot is probably enough to send me to the nurse. So socks on is the final decision. Fuck my life is complicated.

With any other group of people it would have been making a scene, however the combination of two fully uniformed pissed off Cheerio's and the warning bell going off means that everyone has found other places to be. It is almost private. Brittany breaks the growing silence.

"Do you want to talk now or later?" I (correctly) assume that this question is directed to Santana as School is not a priority for Brittany and I, besides when was the last time she asked instead of told.

"Uh, lets sort this now."

I walk out of the classroom seeing nothing but red. I want to run or cry or puke. I want to hit things, pound the shit out of the walls of this crappy building until its rubble or my hands fall off. Above all else I want to be angry, because all I feel is hollow. Shit, I fucking understand why they stood shoulder to shoulder and put me in my place. I understand why Brittany treats me like she does and if I were Santana I might not trust me either. But this feels different, this feels like Brit intentionally warping facts so Santana stays away. I leave. I just stand up and walk out as Brit keeps talking at me, Santana looks sorry for the shit they are spewing but maybe that is just wishful thinking.

I have nothing else to do so I go to work. The paddocks look a lot smaller and safer in the daylight. Stunted trees seem a safe place to take out my aggression so I start swinging. I get a nice rhythm going, my shoulders start burning and the tears start slowing pouring down my face. Why couldn't I have just one chance to take you on a date? Am I not good enough to be allowed to make you smile? I would gladly give you everything, are you rejecting me because I'm worth fucking nothing to you? Obviously Santana doesn't answer because she is not here. After a few hours I'm all cried out and feeling a bit sheepish over my melodramatic response. Alright yes it really fucking hurts but talking to a fake Santana in my head doesn't help a thing. I sit down with my back to a tree to think. Leaving wasn't a mature choice and won't exactly put me in a positive light with Santana or Brittany. Maybe if I actually followed their advice and ... No. I don't see how sleeping around proves that I'm not just lusting over my best friend. My stomach growls which breaks my train of thought.

**AN - If anyone is still reading this, I have excuses and plenty of them. There is a bunch about trying to sort my life out but they fall under being whiny and indecisive. The legitimate excuses that pay for week of no typing are; hyper extending my pinky and subsequently having it taped for a week and a half, busting my hand on a metal tines resulting in an immovable ring finger and a ridiculously painful blood blister under the thumb nail, and last but not least managing to super glue my fingers together. That sucked. **


	24. Chapter 24

I have a weird relationship with food these days. I eat a high calorie, low nutritional value diet as a staple, never gain weight and don't need pro-active. Initially this seemed cool but on days like today my all consuming need to eat just pisses me off. I'm standing in the biscuit aisle of the supermarket debating whether I want the chocolate or the original Oreos when it strikes me I could easily eat both packets today. Not even as a meal just casual snacks. Dare I say it, I am actually missing Sue's crazy Cheerio diet.

The checkout operator smiles at me as she put the junk food through.

"Big party Tonight?"

"Nah just work snacks for the day."

She giggles, "Nice joke." I keep nod, fuck I wish it was a joke. She is still smiling at me, it's been creepy long. I smile back unsure of what else to do. I give her a $20 and she makes sure to touch my hand both taking it and giving change. Oh, that's how this is. "Call me?" She has written her number on the receipt. Looking at her again she is easy on the eyes, makes it easier for the lie to tumble from my lips,

"Sure babe." I'll just avoid this place from now.

Sitting in my car I'm waiting for Dave to finish school. Working by myself is boring. The boy in question knocks on my window. "Gonna have to catch you later, got practice tonight."

"Wasn't that yesterday?"

"Nah trials. I'm on seconds." He pauses and looks at me, "No one cares about seconds, wanna just train with?"

"I have nothing else to do, can't go home because Brittany is being a bitch."

As we walk into the rink, Dave explains why exactly has one. "So basically this school has a tradition of winning. To maintain said tradition the school board uses a lot of the winnings as incentives. Like Vocal Adrenaline all have range rovers. Dicks. Anyway about 15 years back the Carmel hockey team was fucking awesome, like top two in the country for years awesome. The rink got built with state funding."

"Why doesn't WMHS do that?" I'll be honest, I'm jealous be nice if the school I'm registered to had crazy incentives.

"You serious? They totally do, just shown less ostentatiously." At my look he adds, "Cheerio's." Oh. Right I used to get free shoes and shit all the time. Plus Sue actually got the private locker room built. I haven't got any loot this year and I don't know if it's because of costing her the national title last year or simply not showing up.

Dave digs out some old gear for me, with ten years worth of Carmel teams through this building we build a full kit from the lost and found. As I'm strapping the skates on someone sits next to me. Looking up I see Chuck, "Oh hey bro, Karofsky said it was ok if I trained with you guys today. If it's not I can just bail."

He waves his hand in a vaguely placating manner as he looks down avoiding eye contact, "I saw you here and kinda freaked out. It just doesn't seem possible that your stable to me, seeing you walk around unescourted made me really uncomfortable. Like leaving knives with kindergartners uncomfortable. I called Brittany to ask what the fuck she was thinking and she assured me with amount she has been fucking with your head if you haven't flipped out by now then you are probably not going to. So yea... wanna join the team because we only have like seven players, it's the rejects team and Brit says your probably just gonna skip school anyway."

Wow, I'm a little unnerved that he automatically thought I was going on a phycotic rampage. The offer seems good, this will give me something to do that is totally unrelated to school or Glee or Santana.

"What do you say?"

"Fuck yea, sounds fun. Um, I don't really know the rules."

"That's ok we are Division Two, we will just put you on defence and you can check everyone."

I have heaps of fun ripping up and down the ice. I'm not great on puck skills but shoulder barging is wicked fun. Dave smashes me over the rail a few times before I figure out the angles and reciprocate.

"Huddle up, game time tomorrow. It's here verses the Dalton thirds. It's the first game of the season and I want to thrash those rich dickeheads." With that the team (all eight of us) disperses and starts pack down. Dave slaps my shoulder,

"Dinner then work?"

"Um I haven't done like team sports since middle school but shouldn't there be more prep?"

"Eh, this school only cares about top tier. Work?"

"Yea, whatever."

I wake up and stretch. The sun is shining, birds are chirping and I'm stiff as fuck from sleeping on a pile of dirty clothes in the bed of my truck. I'm still angry at Brittany and I don't wanna tell Puck about her suggestion, the look on his face would be pure pity and I don't want that, so I slept out after giving Dave a lift back home. My foot itches, it never really got properly treated after the chipper and mud probably wasn't good for it. I think about checking it but the whole foot and part of my calf burns when I pull on the shoe. Fuck it, that is a later problem. I quickly get used to the stinging sensation that comes with standing and get to work after a quick McDonalds detour. It's not a love of the job that prompts me into working, just a complete lack of anything else to do. I grew up hearing that idle hands lead to idle minds. With my idle mind fixated on Santana, gorgeous unattainable, smart sexy Santana work is my only option. Puck texts me when he should clearly be in second period.

_Puck - Yo. What's the deal with you and S?_

_Quinn - Fucking nothing._

_Puck - Bullshit, I saw you kissing yesterday_

_Quinn - Yea? did you see her push me off then nod when B said to try other people?_

_Puck - I'm free ;) ... But WTF i thought S liked you. Major ouch_

_Quinn - It was kinda more Bitchney that told me to get with anyone but Santana. She has told me before that she don't really trust me not to lose control with someone I'm that emotionally attacted to when I'm this inexperienced. Bitch also knows that if I fuck anyone Santana is friends with I blow my chances with her. FML._

_Puck - 3 Message serious? If it's a real issue try peeps she doesn't know. If not tell B to fuck herself and buy flowers and shit._

Huh, Puck actually seems to have a good idea there. But I'm not likely to meet many chicks in a male hockey team.

**AN - This is about half of what I have written hard copy. Check it out organisation and shit. But I need to find the laptop charger before you get the rest. Boringsiot the push through the pain comment made me laugh real hard. I read it morning after and tried to sort out whether the bruised knuckles came from the letterbox that stole my pants or the garage that was looking at me funny.**

**Also, Rosariogarcia it's not bad luck just poor situational awareness, stupidity and marginal clumsiness. **

**Estamagnifiquee - I wrote soon see.**


	25. Chapter 25

**AN - Yea. I did this. Feel free to complain but I sort of felt it was necessary. **

This game is awesome. Apparently Chuck wrote my name on the team list as Luke then just claimed it as a clerical error when the referee asked. I probably spent half the game in the Sin Bin, only one major foul so far. It seems weird to me but the Carmel cheerleaders actually show up to support their sports teams and it isn't even because its compulsory. They just generally like cheering school teams. One of the seniors is giving me a lot of extra support. By which I mean she is flirting up a storm every time I'm sitting in my little booth. I was initially standoffish but Puck's advice keeps running through my head 'people she doesn't know' also she is fucking hot.

I'm back on the ice for all of a minute before some loser thinks he can get past me on his attack run. Dropping my shoulder I smash this punk into the boards making sure my stick clips his helmet for good measure. "Warble that bitch!" Alright so maybe I'm not a good sportsman.

"What's wrong with you that's our glee club retard."

A piercing whistle cuts through the start of our argument, "You are off for the rest of the game Fabray."

Glancing at the clock then the ref I shrug. There is only ten minutes left anyway. The Dalton boys look whipped. I have personally smashed each and every member of their team and we are up a few points so I just head to the changing room. The cheerleader from before catches up,

"Hi it's Clara. Would you like to use our changing room so you don't have to rush Fabray?" I look her up and down, tight blue and black uniform, dark hair, playful glint in her eyes. It's a fucking loaded question. I hear an imaginary Puck telling me to tap it and Santana pushing me away. After my (semi) successful hockey debut I deserve a reward don't I?

"That sounds like Heaven. And its Quinn not Luke."

"Yea, you are way too hot for a Luke. A Lucy maybe but the last Lucy I knew was a fattie in middle school." Ow that hurts. My good mood is kind of killed but she pushes me into the blue lockers. "You were so aggressive out there, I mean you really dominated the ice." She leans in for a rough kiss. I pick her up, when she wraps her legs around my hips I spin and lean her against the lockers.

"Yea?" I ask with a smirk.

"So. Fucking. Hot." Each word was punctuated with a kiss.

I lose my shirt, my armour, my pants and my wits. It's mind blowing and earth shattering and I just can't describe it. Just as I tip over the edge into madness and bliss I whisper her name.

"Santana." Every syllable is a prayer to me. I get brought back to reality with a slap and sobbing. Fuck. FUCK. "Sorry." I don't know if I'm saying it more to her or myself. I just slump down and sit with my back to the lockers watching her go. Once Courtney? Kathleen? Kate? has gone I slowly get up and head to the shower. Without the adrenaline from the game or endorphins from sex moving really hurts. Looking down I see angry red lines starting to track up from my foot. The whole foot is swollen and pus is leaking from at least one cut. Tasty. I take it as karmic punishment for my actions.

While intellectually I know that Brit knows exactly what I have done I don't want to face her. So it's back to work. I work like a motherfucker, when the petrol runs out I switch to the axe. When the junk food runs out I stop eating, when my eyes start to close I nap in the truck for as long as I can. My body is burning and I have to keep going. If I can just work hard enough maybe I can be a good person again.

After a few days? Dave shows up. He is in a different work truck, both doors work and everything.

"Hey Quinn, you didn't show and you weren't answering calls so I ... Whoa you look like shit. Let's get you home." He runs over to me and takes the axe out of my hands. I try to grab it back. Doesn't he know I need to keep working? I lurch forward to grab it back but nearly fall. I totally would have face planted but Dave catches me. I struggle but he doesn't let go. Fuck that I should be stronger. "Settle Quinn, if you can't calm down I'm driving you to the emergency room and not home."

"Brittany says I can't go to the doctors." I sing at him. Ha. That will teach him to interfere.

"That's right you live with her now. I'll take you there."

"NO! She is a meanie. Don't wanna see her. I want Tana!" He just stares at me, "Don't you look at me like I'm five. I Want To Go See Tana." I enunciate each word clearly and try to squirm out of his arms. Why am I working when I could be with Santana?

"Do you mean Santana?" I nod enthusiastically, he gets it. "I will take you to school to see Santana if you promise to sit nicely in the truck."

**Unimpressed? Share your feelings with the review button.**


	26. Chapter 26

_Rachel POV - I'm fixing my timeless haircut in the bathroom nearest the exit to this hellhole. Just because my alarm clock broke this morning is no reason to abandon my morning rituals. My dads' forced me out of the house but nevertheless I shall endeavour to reach my normal standard in the shoddy lighting of the school bathroom. It's not as though Ms Castle is likely to notice my absence. Monday morning she is almost always high from the weekend if not then hung-over._

_I hear an obnoxious clanging from the hallway. I roll my eyes and get my lip-gloss out, that shine is totally important. I hear a loud, "Owww..." with my pitch perfect hearing I can recognise that beautiful voice anywhere, it can only be Quinn. After quickly jamming all my products into my tote I exit the bathroom to check on her. She is lying on the ground holding her leg groaning. The only other sign of disturbance I can see is an empty trash can lying on the ground next to her. I rush over to her prone form, she must be quite injured if she isn't getting up. I kneel next to her head, what did first aid teach me? Oh right check for ABC, I can see her chest rising so she is covering the A and the B. I am about to check her pupils but her hand reaches up and tangle in my hair, "Hey Sant... " her eyes flutter all the way open and focus on me. "You're not Santana, Berry. Fuck off." Well that was pure rude._

_She lets go of my hair roles over in an attempt to stand up, she gets one leg under her but face plants before she gets there. I start to walk away when I hear her calling, "Wait, Ber-Rachel can you give me a hand up?"_

_Well, well, well, who needs my help now? I'd gloat some more but she is looking so pathetic on the floor, the disgusting floor that has never been cleaned. I have to use far more effort than should be necessary for help, in fact once she is up she stumbles into the lockers landing with her face. I wince and touch my nose in sympathy. Before I can try to pick her up again a deep voice comes from behind me, "I never would have figured you for a person to seek physical revenge." I spin and see Karofsky standing there. Oh god I'm going to die, I know he is friends with Quinn and he thinks I'm beating her up. He steps towards me and I shriek. He throws his hands up "Woah, settle. The only reason I'm here is because this one wouldn't get in the truck unless I promised to take her to Santana. If you can find either Santana or Brittany to hand her off to that'd be cool, cos I should stay here to keep her from hurting herself more."_

_Karofsky seems far less threatening when he is holding Quinn up with one arm and pressing a handkerchief to her split forehead with his free hand. I pull out my cell and hit call for Brittany, she is way less scary than Santana._

_"Hey Rae-Rae. Did you want me to make some rainbow notes for this class?"_

_"Um, no. I'm standing in the hall with a drunk and disorientated Quinn and weirdly enough David Karofsky."_

_"Where are you?" There is nothing vague about her voice now, if anything it's filled with menace. Now I'm thinking Santana would have been the less scary option._

_"West entrance near the bathroom."_

_"Stay there." The threat in her voice is unmistakable. Brittany comes around the corner and takes Quinn off Karofsky. As she takes her Quinn just collapses, I'm not sure if I saw it but it looked like a flash of a syringe._

_"Thank Rachel we can take it from here." She and Karofsky take an arm over the shoulder each and turn towards the door. It just doesn't add up the way Quinn collapsed as soon as Brittany arrived. _

_"But..."_

_"We have it Rachel."_

_"But"_

_"Thank you." Her voice is like ice and I want to cry. There is no way I could get Quinn off Karofsky, but this whole situation just feels off. Discretion is the better part of valour so I leave. When I glance back it looks as though Karofsky is carrying Quinn bridle style, his gentleness eases my fear a little._

Once again I wake up to the blinding glare of the fluorescent lights in Brittany's basement. This seems normal to me and although I can't remember where I was before this and I can't move because I'm strapped down to a gurney I don't panic. I panic when I feel my leg opening, when I start yelling the cutting stops. Brit moves up to where I can see her. "Sorry, I wanted to be done while you were still knocked out. It wasn't until I stripped you that I saw how bad it was." Ignoring the stripping comment because let's be honest, that is normal for her.

"What's It?" In response she simply tilts the bed into a sitting position. I can see my entire foot is inflamed and leaking pus from all the cuts, what's more the red lines of infection are tracking all the way up my and around my leg. The highest one snakes over my hipbone and stops just shy of my belly button.

"I don't know what the fuck you did to your foot but this is bad. Quinn," She pauses, "there is only one way to deal with this and I can't knock you out. I'm sorry but." She trails off and looks me in the eye. I swallow and nod. "Good girl." She goes to recline the bed.

"Wait. It's easier to not panic if I can see what you are doing." She shrugs, snaps some fresh blue gloves on that weirdly match her eyes and goes back to slicing my leg open. Yep. The only way to deal with infections this set in is to slice the infected tracts open and scoop the pus out. I'm lucky in two ways. One, that I'm not straight up dead from this level of infection and two, with the majority of pus out and heavy duty antibiotics we only have to do this once. Without my boosted immunity system apparently this procedure often needs repeating six or seven times. I know this because Brittany told me making while making nervous grossed out conversation. I'm glad she is as uncomfortable with this as I am. I don't feel like a lab rat, I feel more like a friend even though she is still slicing my leg open. Yea, can't really deal with that. I fade in and out of consciousness.

When I wake up properly she is stitching up my leg. It looks like ants running in lines up my leg. "How many stitches is that?"

"Fucking lots. Don't do whatever you did again. How did you even let it get this bad?"

Well here it is, now I get to confess exactly what I did. I start at the kick ass game, the sheer joy of ripping up and down the ice. And then ... Not Santana, the looks, the touches and finally the locker room.

"So needless to say I feel like shit. I mean sure I don't know her, but I shouldn't have done that to her or me." Brittany finishes up the last few stitches and pats my leg.

"So you are good to go, take it easy for the next few days and you can take the stitches out in a week. Wanna go for dinner?"

"Did you not listen to me? I fucked Everything up." She releases the straps from my legs before looking me in the eye.

"No you didn't. You actually did what I told you for once and you managed to do it totally out of our group of friends. Ok yes you should feel kinda shitty about forgetting her name but at least Santana isn't going to have to see this chick at school. Also if she is willing to have sex with you an hour after you meet, then it's totally her fault too." I feel vaguely better. "Now put some pants on we are going out."

**AN - So it makes a great impression on your flatmates friends when you walk into the kitchen at 10:30 in the morning, make a coffee with extra bourbon then answer with work when asked for your plans for the rest of the day.**

**Boringsiot, was that a Hellsing reference? if so awesome.**

**Silent reader, well I might want a happy ending. Maybe.**


	27. Chapter 27

I make my decision Tuesday morning. Fuck Cheerios. All it amounts to is extra stress and while the skirt looks damn fine on Santana's ass it doesn't do sweet fuck all to conceal the stitches running up and down my leg. I decide not to tell Sue, she can figure it out on her own. I am hoping Beiste doesn't kick me off the football team though.

I walk into school with my head held high and only a slight limp in concession to my stitches. My first stop is Beiste's office to drop off the fake doctors note Brittany made for me. I get waylaid by Puck.

"Yo Quinn where you been?"

I turn and face him, "I..."

"Actually fuck that. What happened to your face is a better question."

I touch my face self consciously, Brit put four stitches into my left eyebrow, she says Berry pushed me into the lockers yesterday. I'm doubtful but it makes a good story.

"I came in yesterday but Berry decided to go all Mike Tyson on me, so I had to get some stitches." Hopefully the ludicrousness of the story will make up for my Thursday, Friday absence as well.

"Hah, you got owned by the midget. Bet Brit's not letting you heal that so she can laugh every time she looks at you. But where were you last week?"

I turn to face him fully, he looks serious. "Bro, I was here last week, I only cut two days well three if we are counting yesterday."

"Nooo, you haven't been here in nearly two weeks."

Wow. Be nice of Brittany to tell me these things. "Shit. I guess I must of lost track of time."

He stares, "You lost a whole fucking week?"

"Yea, I wasn't really processing much after the infection set in." Puck cups his crotch in sympathy. "Not that type of infection." I pull him into the girls bathroom and drop my jeans.

He whistled, "How many is that?"

"Don't know I can't count that high."

I think the exact moment Santana walked in is when Puck drops to his knees and puts his hand on my leg. The fact that he is checking the temperature of my knee as a residual infection point doesn't make the positioning any better. We start babbling over each other with explanations, Santana's face changes from sceptically amused to mild concern,

"What the fuck did you do to your face Q?"

Puck smirks, "Rachel did it. She saw a weakness and exploited it." He gestures at my leg and I blush and pull my pants up. Santana's face is fluctuating between furious and incredulous, it would be even funnier if I wasn't suddenly concerned with Rachel's future health.

"Babe, it's fine. I'm fine." Whoops, that was a slip.

"Babe?" She is trying to be angry but is going bright red. I didn't even know she could go that red with her complexion.

"Sorry. There is no reason to be embarrassed though. I go that colour when I talk with hot stuff."

Puck cuts in, "Really? I thought you were more of a stutter type?"

"Nah, I look like that every goddamn time I flirt with the sun." He hi fives me and Santana glares some more.

"You two are eggs." She blushes again and walks out.

"Eggs? Wow you really got her flustered if that's the best she can do. So spill, what did you do on your week long holiday?"

"Played hockey, banged a cheerleader, flipped out because I banged cheerleader, got my leg infected then dunno." I shrug, "I gets pretty hazy and then I wake up in the dungeon again."

He leans back against the sink bench and stares at me. "Wow, um, ok. Was she hot?" This is why I like Puck. After blushing and nodding I push past him and slip into class late. I narrowly avoid detention using my stitches as a go slow excuse. I slip in next to Santana.

"Miss me?" She blushes again, maybe this just friends thing won't be so bad.

No showing for two weeks worth of trainings and showing up with stitches gets rid of my starting spot and I narrowly avoided being kicked off the team entirely. That would be bad considering my need for constant exercise. Not to mention I'm pretty sure a McKinley letterman will impress Santana more than a Carmel one. I don't want to be friend zoned for the entire year. We are starting to gear up for Sectionals in Glee. I like the lack of projects as all I need to do is learn my sway and background ahh's. It's quite therapeutic watching Santana yell at Rachel and the weird Irish kid try and hit on Brittany while she acts her dumbest.

Between the easy pace with Glee, scraping C's in all my classes and the fact my Carmel hockey team is actually winning life is pretty good for me. Of course the good times don't last.

Santana and I are walking from chemistry, it was the last class of the day so we are dropping all our shit in our lockers before glee. I haven't told her but I'm blowing off the second half. Dave said tonight's hockey game is a big one so I'm getting there with enough time to warm up with the team.

"Worried about the test Q? You are kind of scraping the bottom of the stupid barrel at the moment."

"Nah, but if you're worried I can always help you with some body chemistry." This flirting has become a game to her, I'm safe because Brittany's laws put me in the eternal friend zone. Each and every time we do this it kills me a little. She smirks and pushes me into the lockers with her fingertips, "Body chemistry eh? I think we could make an exothermic reaction."

"Dykes." Both our heads whip around, it's one of the hockey jerks. I don't know his name I'd always just assumed it was Rick's Bitch. "But I'm not judging, just came to offer the lovely Santana a ride on the Josh Coletrain express. It will take you all the way to normal town babe." He finishes his little speech with a leer. That's it. I'mma kill the fucker, no one says shit like that to Santana. I'm about to hulk out and rip this guy limb from limb when I see her shake her head no.

Instead she and Rachel (who I swear must have been stalking for this moment) burst into song. Of course I and all the other Glee girls sing back up, and fuck me if seeing Santana sing 'I kissed a Girl' isn't a turn on but it doesn't seem enough. I give Santana a hug when the song is over and bail.

**AN - Whoop Whoop, story hyping up.**


	28. Chapter 28

I pick Dave up from Carmel as I have the time. We aren't in the Carmel rink as their first team has a home game.

"Who we playing?"

"McKinley."

A slow grin spreads across my face, "Perfect."

This game has gotten ridiculously brutal. The McKinley boys recognised Dave and then me. They scoff at Dave, start yelling traitor, begin moving towards harsher insults, see me and double take before laughing. After forty minutes of Dave and I treating the rink like our personal thunderdome they aren't laughing. The referee has gone between the teams threatening to cancel the game if there is anymore foul play. Also one of the McKinley boys got pulled out by his mummy. Lucky for me, that wasn't Josh. I re tie my skates, fist bump Dave and get back on to the ice for the final period. McKinley wins the drop, Rick passes to Josh who tries to feint around me. Bad call, I body check him into the boards, wait a split second for him to recover, drop my stick and shove him back into the boards. When he takes a swing at I know I have him. I quickly pull off my helmet, gloves and shirt.

I wrap my left hand in his shirt twisting it tight in his right armpit both for balance and to remove all mobility from his dominate arm. With that achieved I start laying into him. I make sure to pull my punches and only hit him in either helmet or armour, but he will still feel this for a week or two. I see the ref coming up in my peripheral vision so I lay one last hit into his helmet and step off. His helmet cracks, whoops probably didn't pull that one much. The ref start yelling at me,

"Yea, yea. I'm gone." I grab my gear off the ice and go. Before I'm totally gone I get pushed in the back and stumble. I drop my shit, spin and swing. Before my fist connects with Rick's face (helmet really) Karofsky's stick gets me on my unprotected face. The blade connects right along my right eyebrow.

"Ah, motherfucker." It split my face like a melon and there is blood everywhere. Fuck the sensibilities of people watching this game, the language feels damn appropriate to me as it feels like I've been hit by a truck. Dammit Dave is supposed to be on my team.

"That is it. This game is over. If anyone so much as bumps another player, neither person will play another game ever." Apparently the referee is sick of our shit. Whatever, this isn't a serious team and I gave Josh a good licking.

I didn't bother with showering today, just slipped out before I could get cornered by yet another cheerleader. Dave caught up to me in the car park.

"Sorry Quinn. I thought you were gonna flip out. For some reason I didn't think that would hurt you that much." Alright so Dave is more attentive than I had thought. And I guess he was thinking more than I was because the punch I threw was probably going to hospitalise Rick the Prick helmet or not.

"It's all good bro, just took me by surprise." There is still blood seeping out of my face despite having my hand pressed to it. Maybe I should have let Alexia play nurse.

"Here, I got that." We sit on the bed of my truck as he pulls a black Carmel towel out and a tub of Vaseline. Dave wipes the blood off my face and is about to smear the cut full of Vaseline when it strikes me.

"Um..." I have no idea how to ask this politely. I glance at the tub then back at him. He seems to catch my drift.

"Ew, no. I snaked this from the first aid kit. That's gross Quinn."

"Hey, I had to check, shits going on my face."

"Whatever." He re-wipes the cut, the Vaseline does its job and finally my face has stopped pissing blood. "Thanks Dave."

"So being the wonderful gentleman that I am, can I ask a favour?"

I snort, so we are just going to ignore the fact he caused this. "You can ask."

"Can I borrow the truck? I want to help a friend move."

"Yea sure. Just drop me home and it's yours."

"Awesome."

I check my phone on the way home, four messages. Sadly none from Santana, instead its three from Brit and one group message from Rachel;

_Brittany - What are you doing? It looks like ur in a stop motion fight_

_Brittany - Enjoy being on five._

Well that explains why my head and hand hurts so much. for once the pain is more than skin deep.

Brittany - We are having a serious discussion about fighting when you get back.

The message from Rachel is the cherry on shit cake. It's asking the glee club to meet tomorrow morning. At a quarter to fucking seven at the fucking school.

"Fuck," I moan. Dave glances over at me. "Can you drop me at Puck's instead?"

"Sure."

Puck is suitably impressed with my face and doesn't question Dave dropping me off.

"COD?"

"COD." We head up to his room and start playing.

"You got any revenge plans for today? I know singing isn't your preferred method of dealing with things."

"Nah, I was just going to point Josh in Santana's direction tomorrow. He's going to apologise."

"Yea right. The dude is a major dickhead."

I pause the game and hold my right hand in front of Puck's face. "Dunno, I think I softened him up a fair bit. I'm sure with a little hint he will do the right thing."

He hi fives me, "So tell me, does his face look like yours? Because that will me mad obvious."

"Nope he looks pretty clean, I was hitting him through his gear, he didn't get a hit on me."

"So?" Puck waves his hand at my face and waits for me to elaborate.

"Oh, yea. This was Karofsky hitting me from behind with his stick. Kinda pre empted me rage smashing everyone." I quit the game. With Brittany turning the dial down to Five my knuckles and face are fucked and are staying fucked. Quite frankly they hurt.

"Mind if I crash on your floor?"

**AN - Firstly woo, more followers than the pied piper. I am stoked. Secondly I have realised how much I hate typing which is why there are more short chapters as opposed to less but longer. When I finish this I will probably repost after reformatting it. **

**Also reviews make my day, so if your that way inclined please do it.**


	29. Chapter 29

**And what do we say to pants? Not today. **

I wake up with a sore face and the inability to close my fist fully. That's ok because I shouldn't have to hit Josh again. The noise that woke me finally registers, it's Pucks shower. God I love hot and private showers. The majority of showers I get are freezing cold with Brittany in the room half the time. I have told her it's creepy and she responds with deal with it. The cycle isn't fun or productive so I gave up arguing. When Puck walks out of the bathroom in nothing but brief, steam billowing around him and says, "All yours." I could have kissed him. I don't because been there, done that, bad plan. It's only once I'm the shower thinking about that when I hits me. I haven't had a period since the accident.

I ... Fuck. I had come to terms with my life being pretty much over but this wasn't something I'd realised. Beth is the only thing I will leave behind in this world. Shit, she doesn't even know me. I start to cry. The water starts to cool down, I turn the tap off but I can't turn off my tears. The door opens about a foot and clean jeans, t-shirt, singlet and socks get thrown in. The door starts to close, but he must hear the crying before he finishes shutting the door.

"You OK?"

"Fine." Considering I got it out between sobs Puck doesn't buy it.

"You have 20 seconds to get dressed or stop crying before I'm coming in." I manage to get out of the shower and get a towel before he comes in. "You don't look ok." He wraps his arms around be and I cry into his shoulder. He stands there and rubs my back for five minutes until I stop snuffling,

"Feeling any better now?" I step back and rub my nose.

"Beth is perfect isn't she?"

He sighs, "Yea she is. You gonna be ok?"

"Yes, just dealing with the new facts of life."

"Still going to Glee this morning?"

"Yea just keep me away from Brittany I may take a swing."

He leaves the room and I get dressed, Puck has leant me nearly a full change of clothes which is nice. Not having much is getting old.

It's a quiet drive to school. I just hunch in the passenger seat in my Carmel letterman, I chose the blue this morning as a bit of a fuck everyone. Today is yet another day that I don't want to deal with school. Showing up reminds me that I don't have a future, can't go to Yale and I generally can't concentrate in class anyway. I'd go to work but I can't move my hand. Puck kill the engine and turns to me,

"So,"

"Yes?" I raise my eyebrow at his tone. "Ow, Fuck." That split the stupid thing open again. He starts laughing.

"Real intimidating. Bleed on people, that will scare them." I give him the evils out of my left eye while I hold my t-shirt to the cut. "Anyway, are you ready to head in or are you just going to sulk in here all day?"

"Can I please?"

"No, get going you have an entire hour and a half to traumatise the Glee club."

When I get out of the truck I stumble, without Puck catching me I would have face planted. Stupid Dave not pulling his stupid hit likely giving me a stupid concussion. Puck and I are running a little late due to my emotional breakdown, all that means is we see the hockey players arrive for their post game meeting. I snap my fingers at Josh and his head whips around. He isn't the only one in this hallway staring at me, the balding coach is giving me the evil eye. Yea bro, me and your defector destroyed your team, I smirk but remember not to raise the eyebrow this time.

"Excuse me Coach, I just need to borrow Josh for a minute."

"Don't you think you caused enough damage yesterday?" My smirk changes into a grin,

"Yesterday was educational don't you think? I just need him for a small apology, then you can have him back."

The coach chooses to misinterpret this and lets Josh follow me. We get to the choir room slowly as he is walking very stiffly, I feel a little bad especially in light of my current pain. Then I remember the sheer amount of emotional damage his speech could have caused Santana, had she not had her friends to back her up and hold her together. I flicker my fingers at him, he swallows and heads in. I hear most of his stuttering apology through the door. It is fucking hilarious, more importantly it's sincere and I'm sure he means well when he finishes on, "and I'm sure your girlfriend will be way hotter than mine." before he rushes out the door.

I walk in before the door shuts, everyone in the room looks stunned there is a small smile on Santana's face so I win. The conversations slowly pick up again; Mike and Tina are arguing Chicken feet salad vs. Breadstix salad, Sugar is trying to push god awful bling onto Mercedes, Kurt is desperately ignoring Rachel and Artie is showing off features of Brittany's iPhone to her. The last pair makes me laugh becauseif B wanted to, she could probably make a whole new OS for the damn thing. My amusement is tempered by my simmering rage that she 'forgot' to inform me I'm now infertile. Bitch. Santana bumps her leg against mine when I sit down. Good distraction.

"So I'm guessing you had something to do with Simple Simon this morning."

"Nah, I am pretty sure he magically realised he was way out of line."

She snorts, somehow delicately its fucking weird. "With zero persuasion? Because your face and shirt say differently." I look down, with a black t shirt the blood is barely noticable, but I'm clearly busted. I smile and shrug, "Just because I showed up dirty this year, doesn't mean I don't still run this shit heap."

"You never ran this place, It has always been me. But thank you. For your misguided attempt at whatever." Aw, from Santana that is practically a declaration of undying love. She files her nails for a bit, checks them, goes back to filing. When I stop paying her 100% of my attention she turns and kisses me on the cheek.

Wow, just wow. It starts an interesting chain of events. First colour floods my cheeks and I blush harder than I ever have before, I feel my whole body going red before the heat start to sink in. It settles around my heart and my makes my day seem way less bleak than it did in Puck's shower. Puck wolf whistles and Brittany's back stiffens. She snatches her phone off Artie and start to play the ignore everything game.

"Uh, Brit, remember I told you snatching is rude." Later Puck swore he saw something snap behind her eyes.

"FUCK YOU, four eyes. You know shit, next year you're going to be proud of jail breaking iPods, while I have a fucking DARPA internship." She grabs her stuff and storms out. She is way better at the storm out than Rachel ever was, the room is shocked into silence. I'm not hugely concerned though because with Santana's hand in mine, my world is pretty fucking OK.

**AN - The top note is about me getting snapped in the lounge room with no pants, I had the cut off legs of my jeans and a blanket. When I stood up my flatmate started laughing his head off.**

**Also last update for a while because HOLIDAY. I need to be up in three hours to get to the airport. **


	30. Chapter 30

"Don't worry Artie, Britt's is a stone cold bitch. I wouldn't take that personally." I return my attention to Santana, specifically the fact she is still holding my hand. Her hand is solid and real, comforting and warm. It's all the things I can't be for Beth. But I would still like her to know me, or know of me I guess. Brittany has been reasonably ominous about my long term future so I get the feeling I will not be around to baby sit. Aaaaand, I'm bummed again. Don't get me wrong, I am still over the fucking moon about Santana touching me, just a little bit of my melancholy about Beth has snuck back in.

"Rachel, could I borrow your phone for a minute?"

"Why?" The one word question shows me that she, like everyone else in this room is still stunned by Brittany flipping out. Hah shows how much they know.

"Please?" I smile at her which is enough for her to hand the stupid pink thing over. It's luckily unlocked so I scroll through her contacts until I find Shelby buried in the emergency contacts. I put the number into my phone albeit awkwardly without letting go of Santana's hand. She raises her eyebrow silently enquiring as to what I'm doing with Berry's phone. Not wanting to divulge my multistep plan while it's in infant stages (like my infant) I start deleting the first letter off every contact Rachel has, suck that minor inconvenience Midget.

"That is a slight bitch move Q, hilarious as though." I shrug and hand Rachel's phone back. Hopefully she doesn't notice that until after I leave the room. Santana and I share a chuckle over my petty actions. It's like the last three years haven't happened.

That is until Brittany waltzes back in with a giant shit eating grin, bitch just starts crumbling my perfect morning with Santana. She sits down behind Santana and I totally ignoring the disturbed looks the entire club is giving her. Artie wisely doesn't ask for an apology.

"So guys, it's great to see all of you this morning. Hands up who wants to add a permanent 7:00 AM training time?"

"Yea, No." I think I just fell in love with San just that little bit more.

Schue fumbles for a bit, "Well alright. Um, So today we are going to start planning for sectionals, this year we are going to be prepared. Ideas?" He uncaps a whiteboard marker and waits. Unfortunately for him the next noise is Rachel's phone.

"Quinn is there any reason that this message is from Urt?" She is really unimpressed.

"Nope." Santana and I start giggling like twelve year olds.

"Quinn," Rachel stomps her foot for extra attention I don't think she understands how ridiculous that looks while sitting, "I thought this year we were a family in this club and everyone, you especially were going to play nice and turn over a new leaf." She finishes and looks at me expectantly.

"Sorry." I mutter my apology and don't look her in the eye. I don't see the problem as it wasn't that big a deal.

"But Rachel Quinn's been playing extra nice this year. This is the one morning she hasn't come back with hickeys after hockey." Santana drops my hand like its burning her. Well fuck.

"Thanks Brittany." I'm so screwed, I was going to tell Santana that I wasn't exactly waiting for her in the physical sense just a whole lot more tactfully.

"Oh anytime Quinn. It's not your fault you know, you are like a sex shark. If you were to stop trying to fuck the entire Carmel cheerleading squad," she pauses for a second and shrugs, "you know bad things."

Oh that fucking bitch. The only reason I started is because she told me I had to before I started flipping out and bad things. So she put me a million steps back with Santana and she removed the only reason I've been sleeping around.

"Brittany watch your language." He sighs, "This weeks lesson is on respect."

So glee was a total bust. I could feel the anger radiating off Santana and it made me want to cry. The day only got worse when I was handed a C- in maths. I've never scored under a B before so I have to check with Puck to see if it's a pass.

"Negatory. But hey check it." He waves a paper with a few points higher and a C on it. I look at him confused and he nods, "Yes, a C is a pass. What's up with that this is just like last year's shit."

"Yea well every fucking minute seems to drone on and on in class and I can't focus. Teachers talk and it's like they are trying to kill me with boredom."

He shrugs, "Welcome to the dark side." I groan and bury my head in my hands, if I got a C- on a recap then I am totally fucked for the rest of this year. I offer him a weak grin.

"It's not like I was going to be able to go to college anyway."

"Wanna help me clean pools?"

"Unlike you I have a real job. Also I don't have to chase peoples mothers."

Puck holds his hands to his chest. "Oh ow. That hurts my feelings." He glances to the front but apparently the teacher is willing to ignore no hopers if we are quiet. "So I gotta ask, uh, how many and how?"

"What?" I am unsure what we are learning about. It looks like calculus but I don't know what the fuck is going on on the board. "Um I think it is integration but we will have to ask Brit for a real explanation."

"Nah I meant cheerleaders. Like the way you didn't deny it totally means you did, and I'm curious?"

"Bi-curious?" He pushes me off my chair. I get back up. "Sorry Miss, accident." She glares but goes back to teaching. "To be honest not sure, because I kick ass at hockey, get all sweaty and hook up in the showers and yea..."

"Nice. So how many games have you played for them?"

I go bright red, "Not that simple if you're trying to figure out how many."

"How is it not a one to one ratio?"

"Just isn't okay. Can we drop this?"

"Well now you are just being touchy. Maybe I'll just ask Dave."

"Fine, trainings and it's not always just one." I finish off at barely above a whisper.

"What!?" I honestly can't tell if Puck is upset, confused or impressed. What he is is fucking loud.

"Miss Fabray and Mr Puckerman, is there something you would like to share with this class?"

"No Miss"

"No Miss"

We are kicked out of class. I feel a little bad for disadvantaging Puck's learning, but hey if he hadn't been yelling in class we would still be in there. We head to the field and Puck tries to teach me about football plays. Beiste sees us and decides there is worse we could be doing with a surprise free period. The up side is she says I can start on Friday night. When we head back in for lunch Santana is still giving me the stink eye. Something tells me that is going to be the way it is for a while.

"Fuck this bro, I'm just going to give her space."

I carefully write out a doctor's note and forge a signature. With it I get the next few weeks worth of school work from my teachers. I have zero intention of doing it but it will get me some slack. I think for the next couple of weeks work and sport is all I'm gonna do.

**AN - Mad good holiday. I got to touch a motherfucking tiger. Also so not sorry about the wait because seriously ITS A TIGER. **


	31. Chapter 31

"Quinn you have to get to school now." it's been like a week since I have gone near McKinley for anything other than football. Brittany is still totally on my shit list.

"Uh no. It's not even time for Sue's super early murder trainings. Why the fuck would I want to be at school now?"

"Because there are People coming." I put my phone down as I unload the back of the truck. I've been digging some sweet holes in the road recently, that's way better than learning right.

"Quinn. Get here now this is fucking serious, there are People coming."

"What people B?"

"Fuck I don't know. There were issues at the base. The test subjects flipped out. They ended up fucking killing people. We either have people coming for you to register and process you or..." alright now I'm panicking. This is what we have been living in fear of. Well this and flipping out and murdering people.

"Or what Brittany?" she chokes back a sob, "Or the test subjects that killed and fucking ate people are coming for me."

"Well fuck."

"Yea pretty much. Please come to the school so my family doesn't get involved and I can hide behind you. Worst case scenario if it is just scientists I will do everything in my power to get you released back into my custody. If you don't come here then we could both be totally fucked."

I throw my shit back into the truck and speed to school. Before six in the morning there is no traffic and I can violate traffic as much I like.

"Put this on, you are pretending to be me." She throws a Cheerios' uniform at me. I start putting it on due to her earlier panic on the phone.

"Uh why?"

"Because you are me. If it's people I work with then I can talk you out of trouble. If it is the failed experiments then they will be trying to fucking kill me." I pull my hair up into a high pony.

"Failed experiments? There are others?"

"Well of course, you think you are the only one? Aww did little Quinnie think she was special." I'm about to smack her but I can hear the quaver in her voice. She is seconds away from shitting herself.

"We are fucked right now aren't we?" She sighs and leans against the truck.

"Sooo fucked right now." There is a growing rumble coming up from the silent streets. Britt pulls a 9mm from her school bag and crawls under my truck.

"Look, just answer to my name, if they buy it they will get angry and try and kill you, if they don't then they will get angry and violently detain you." Suddenly it's like my body is on fire. I can feel the power flowing through my veins, shit she bumped me up to three. This only every happens before and after serious bodily harm.  
The rumble gets louder, a blacked out SUV pulls up and three people in full BDU's get out. I am officially shitting it. They all have primary weapons in their hands and secondary weapons strapped to themselves. It's the dead look in their eyes that is freaking me out the most though.

"Brittany?" the guy holding a M16 asks.

"Yea?"

The creepiest smile I have ever seen, "Excellent." he brings his gun up slightly and fires a bullet into my knee.

"Fuck. Ah mother fucker." I drop instantly. This is insane and it is honestly the first time anyone has ever caused me huge amounts of pain intentionally. Although I healed super quick and roll back onto my feet the ill intent behind the shot disturbs me.

"So you are self doping. Well that just means we don't have to mind our shots." I charge forward and tackle the speaker into his car. I don't want to take a gun because I have no idea what the fuck to do with one. Plus if people start arriving I don't really want to be spraying and praying. Instead I run into the hallways with the other two following me. I really wish I wasn't wearing this fucking tiny skirt though. Next time I let Brittany talk me into any fight I want pants. I stop behind a corner and clothesline the first guy past hard enough to snap his neck. The noise makes me sick which causes me to hesitate. Second dude hits me like freight train. I get slammed into the lockers and can literally feel my ribs splintering under the impact. The first guy I hit is back up. Shit I really don't want to die today. I push the second one off me, cough a little blood up and bring my fists up. Having a guard totally doesn't stop them from shooting me. The shoots echo through the hall and I hear a scream fuck I really thought we would be alone. The scream prompts the men to grab an arm each and drag me out to the parking lot. I feel as helpless as a kitten. Like I'm strong but when I tried to yank my arm out of the dudes arm it honestly felt like he was going to rip it off.

I get thrown though the school doors and land on a car bonnet. "Quinn, stay down." that is Brittany yelling at me. Guess that means her game is up. I roll off the bonnet and lie on the ground, the men that threw me are simultaneously hit with multiple large calibre rounds. When they don't get up I sigh in relief. "Are these people safe then?" I get up and ask Brit. Getting up was a mistake. No warning shots fired, just one round straight through the heart as soon as I have my feet under me. So I'm just going to stay on the ground until someone tells me I can get up. But I feel good. I feel like I could take a whole fucking army.

Suddenly lying here isn't an option. The amount of energy pounding through my just won't let me be still. I jump up, man this uniform is trashed. Brittany and her 'friends' seem to be moving slow motion. From what Brit said earlier I'm going to have to go with them at least for now. I wonder if it's going to be a long trip. Snacks, holy fuck I want snacks if we are going on a trip. Running into the school I find the nearest vending machine, fuck I left my wallet in my pants. I smash the glass and grab an armful of chips and lollies and head back outside.

"So we going?" I stand in front of a bunch of armed strangers with a armful of junk food. There has to be at least five guns trained on me but I ignore them in favour of my food running into the building left me super hungry. Now they seem to be moving at normal speed.

Yelling. They are all yelling something at me. I get the feeling if keep eating I can get as quick as I was before but that is freaky fast and I don't want that. Still these are some mad good chips.

"Quinn!" Brittany snaps her fingers in front of my face.

"Shit sorry, did you want some chips?" I wave the bag at her. Whoops guess that was kind of rude not to share, I'm just so fucking hungry. She pinches the bridge of her nose. None of the guns have wavered an inch and it's getting a little un nerving.

"No you can keep the chips. How are you feeling?"

"Like I drank a gallon of red bull. It's like after I got shot everything around me started moving in slow motion. Fucking weird."

"Fuck. FUCK. Um, but you are feeling like mentally ok?" She has taken a step back and is staring at me like I'm a rabid dog.

"Fine, real hungry though." From the reaction of the soldiers that was a bad answer. At least two people are white knuckling their guns. Might not do much for accuracy but it shows the sudden stress.

"Can you just get in the van real slowly. It's time for processing."

**AN - For the nameless guest review, yes that is a hugely valid point. My only rebuttal is I'm pretty fucking lazy and once this is finished I'm going to re chapter this into chunks of 5-6k words. Also I read WoT so many things seem short.**


	32. Chapter 32

I'd be sorry for the absence, but it's Wheel of Time related so I'm totally not. But I shall acknowledge the choppy writing style and huge amount of filler this is. As a result I'mma polish and repost this story in a more coherent and consistent manner. It also has a planned ending now.

Also everyone should read the Wheel of Time by Robert Jordan. First book is The Eye of the World. Go.


	33. Chapter 33

I'm not sure if I would really call it a van, to me it looks more like an armoured truck like the ones they use to transfer money. Regardless of the vehicular classification I climb in noticing the bodies of the fake soldiers being loaded into similar vans. I'm just about to open another packet of chips when I realised I don't know how long this trip will be.

"Um hey?" Ok, everyone that didn't have a gun on me now does. Even the people that had been loading the other vans. Lame. I throw my hands up and stop moving, "Whoa, I'm not getting out or moving promise. I was just wondering if someone could pass me my clothes from my truck please."

Brittany gets them as I try not to move. She passes them to me with a soft sorry before the solid steel doors are shut on my face. I change in the dark flinching as I find a fist size hole in the back of the Cheerio's top. Fuck how am I ok? The pile of snack food distracts me and I stuff my face until I pass out.

The room is brightly light and I jerk fully awake when the drip enters my arm, I don't move far because I am chained to a chair that is bolted to the ground. I relax slightly when I see blonde hair but fuck, it isn't Brittany and I try to move away. Doesn't work and I have to acknowledge the people in front of me. Hey cool Brittany is there, this probably won't be that bad, she is sitting on the left hand side of this middle age dude. He looks hardcore, his eyes are dead and he is inspecting me for any and all flaws, Brittany doesn't look comfortable at all making eye contact with anyone in the room. Ok so this isn't going to end well.

He has been shooting terse rapid fire questions at Brittany and I for at least an hour, (to be honest I've drifting in and out of consciousness due to the sedative being pumped into me) he seemed shocked when we admitted I had been like this for months. After what seems like an eternity of questions I am stood up and escorted to a cell. The drip stays with me but Brittany leaves. I get strapped to the bed, then I pass the fuck out again.

There is some colours and noises around me, but I can't lift my arms or move. I'm not sure if it is because my arms are too heavy to move or if I'm still restrained. I'm so fucking hazy that I barely notice the drip being removed, I sure as fuck notice the wide bore needle going in the other arm though.

I wake up properly this time, I can also focus on the bars of the cell and the armed guards outside. They aren't looking at me so I clear my throat, "Um, would I be able to get a glass of water please?"

"Patient Zero is awake and requesting water. Instructions? Over." This is spoken into a radio while I am totally ignored.

Well they debate my immediate future I take stock of my new situation. The cell I'm in is smaller than the one at Brit's house and it doesn't have a shower, otherwise it is very similar. Instead of the clothes I put on in the truck I'm in orange prison clothes. Awesome. That illustrates how much they trust me. Flexing my arm and sitting on the edge of the cot I wait for a response from the guards. The left arm feels odd, not stiff exactly just off. When I roll the sleeve up to check my arm I see it, it's a fucking barcode imbedded on the inside of my forearm. It is silvery and huge and it seems to sparkle more than the entire cast of twilight. I can't take my eyes off it I cannot believe they fucking branded me as property, I can feel rage building inside me and the guards haven't even sorted whether I'm allowed water yet.

Fuck. This. Shit. I can't look at this without the rage building to blinding levels, I have to cover it, but like permanently. I sit in silent rage trying to think until it hits me. I'll get a tattoo to cover it. Sweet, now I just have to leave.

With that in mind I stand and kick a hole in the back wall. Wow stomping shit hurts way less with shoes on, it's all good though I'm through the wall and running down the corridor. Alarms are blaring everywhere so I keep running in one direction which should eventually lead to an exit. With all army dudes coming out of the wood I feel like I'm in football training dodging them all. Once I clear the buildings I have a straight shot to the fence. However being outside means that the soldiers have clean lines. I cop a fair few bullets in the back before the fence, after I rip through the chain link I'm in the clear. Well discounting the stray round that caught me in the shoulder and sent me sprawling. S'ok though it meant the search light went straight over my head.

Jogging down the road eventually brings me to a small town, I have no idea where I am but luckily there are nice people that leave their washing out over night. I ditch my fucking obvious orange clothes under a bush and think about my plan. So far leaving the base is complete, but now I need money and preferably transport. Mmmm, alright ATM's have money so there is step two I guess. I put the hood up on my borrowed clothes and head onto the main street of this shitty town.

I am so fucking scared of myself when my poorly thought out plan to punch a hole in the ATM to grab the money out works. No wonder I was locked up like a beast. I suddenly realise how little I care I was shoot like three hours ago. I put the cash into the hoodie pocket and move to hide from the cops which will swarm. This whole day sucks, I woke up with a barcode, I got shot a lot, I have no idea where the fuck I am and I'm alone in the dark hiding from cops and army and Brittney. Seriously FML right now.

**AN - So yes I am a lazy fuck. I was going to redo this story awesome like. But you know life. And moving flat, new job with triple hours, getting into Uni and being too sick to stand didn't really help. Also shout out to fireman12468 and Super-Saiyan-Me who followed me this month which gave super motivation to get the idea's out of my head and onto paper for this.**

**Thanks for reading and I'mma try to be more diligent with updates.**


	34. Chapter 34

**AN - Dear Uni maths, please go die. You're totally hurting my mind. **

I guess this town isn't as shitty as I had initially thought. Sure only one cop car has shown up, but it was a silent alarm in the middle of the night and it is a new squad car too. I wait until the officer steps out of the vehicle and ghost behind him gently lifting his keys from the belt. With three swift steps I'm unlocking the car and driving off. I'd really hate to be him right now having to explain that to his boss. I drive to the next town over and scope the place out in pre dawn light. I park my new Dodge Charger in an underground car park and consider my next move. The hoodie I'm wearing is huge but still passable in the oh you borrowed your boyfriend's how sweet kind of way. The pants are insane though. I swear everyone in the house must be rather obese. So the huge clothes and lack of shoes makes me stick out like mad. I pop the boot on the charger and take a look at my choices. Luckily for me there is a spare uniform in here. Thank fuck for skinny cops, the uniform fits but I feel like a tool in it. I tuck the shirt in, adjust the oversized belt buckle and wander into town looking for breakfast idly wondering how many laws I've broken tonight. Dunno if anything I did to leave base was a felony but there is stealing clothes, breaking the ATM open, grand theft auto and now impersonating an officer of the law.

Hah I totally smashed Puck's record. I'll be sure to rub my success in his face if I get back to school. It is McDonalds time now, to be honest it feels weird not being greeted by name when I walk in. I order the food of ten people before I realise the main issue with my current disguise.

"Hey bro, I'll give you $200 right now for your shoes."

"Um, I kinda need them right now."

"I've got cash." The greasy cashier looks over his shoulder to try and see a manager, before glancing at the cash in my hand. He then bends down and starts untying his shoes. God bless cash strapped teens.

I take my food and the shoes to a booth in the back. I jam a week's worth of calories in my mouth as I stare at the nasty nasty shoes. From the outside they look fine, but each shoe appears to be both crusty and slimy simultaneously and to make things worse they have to be at least one size too small so the filth will be pressed into my feet. Putting them on is worse than getting shot I swear. Urgh I want socks.

I bite the bullet and put the gross shoes on, seriously I don't think they have ever been cleaned. I go to check for messages before realizing I don't have a phone on me. In fact all I have is cash, hand cuffs and a tazer. I need to go back to Brittany. Sitting in McD's Hicksville I can admit that smashing my way out was almost definitely a bad plan. Sure seeing my barcode sends me into a rage, but maybe I could have restrained myself for 5 minutes until I calmed down and let Brittany explain. Ah well, I may as well finish my original plan.

The guard nearly shits himself when I roll down the window and take the cop's stolen aviators off my face (I'm totally impressed with how cliché the cop was). He hits an alarm and there is suddenly like a hundred dudes with guns in my face.

"Sooo, you missed me?" I try to act casual as I move very slowly to exit the vehicle. I really don't want to be shot by these douche bags again. The middle age dude is back, he waves at least half the guards back inside the compound, or base, or whatever.

"You came back." He appears to be judging me, a lot more open mindedly than last time if the lack of restraints is anything to go by.

"Yes I did. After careful consideration in a less threatening environment I decided that hiding isn't a really a viable option so,"

I'm cut off by Brittany walking out the gate towards me, "Hah who sounds like Rachel now bitch?"

I glare, "Whatever, I came back so could take responsibility and shit. Or you know sit in a cell for the rest of my un-natural life. Maybe I wanted to be just a little bit eloquent when I gave up my freedom."

"Shit speech, maybe you can work on it while I help waterboard you." Fucking bitch. I take half a step towards her to re arrange her face. I catch myself and lean back against cop car. I'm so glad that I realised she is baiting me, at least I hope she isn't serious about torture.

The interrogation lasts for like an hour, with Brittany threatening serious bodily harm every second sentence. I'm getting pretty angry but I repress my rage and don't put her face through a brick wall. Suddenly she gets in the passenger side, "You coming?" she looks impatient. I sigh, so fucking confused right now. The guard is back in his little gate house, and all the soldiers are going back into base studiously ignoring me.

"What the fuck Brittany?" I get in and stare at her. She has to know more about what is going on than me.

"Just drive Quinn, I'll explain on the way home." I slowly reverse and turn onto the highway following Brittany's wave. "They realised they can't hold you. Everything was trashed and it was decided to kill you on sight."

"Shit, SHIT. Why aren't I dead now?"

"Watch the road, you might survive a crash but I won't. Anyway, they were making plans to lure you somewhere unpopulated then 'pew pew pew'. Buuut then you drove right up to the gate and they decided seeing as you didn't hurt anyone when you were gone it was easier to just let you leave."


	35. Chapter 35

**AN - If we name it, it's a pet. We like pets. Pimpmaster McFly, I would be proud to call you my roommate. Fuck buying a mouse trap.**

Urgh, Britt is a total bitch. Fucking 10 hour drive and she hasn't taken a turn. Her excuse was that we are in a cop car and I have the only uniform. To save this from being a 17 hour drive I went lights and sirens to piss her off. On the outskirts of Lima I turn the flashing lights and sirens off and drop to near the speed limit. That is until I see Puck's truck.

I put the aviators on and grin at Brittany. She sighs, "You are so fucking childish sometimes."

"You are just a lame wannabe responsible bitch. This will be hilarious." She isn't impressed but she slumps down so she won't be visible in Puck's rear-view mirror. I tailgate then flick the blue and red lights on. He pulls his truck over and I take a minute to try and school my face and stop laughing. I get out of the car and walk slowly towards his, knock on his driver window and wait.

"Noah Puckerman you are under arrest for having a unjustifiable amount of pride in that mohawk." The look on his face is totally priceless.

"Quinn?"

"Like the car bro? Totally free." I can't keep the grin off my face. He kind of looks like he got hit by a train. "Laters bro."

I roll out of bed (off my floor mattress) and stretch. Work or school, work or school. It's a hard choice until I remember that it's nearly sectionals and Santana will be crazy psychotic for the next week. She cares way more about glee than she wants to admit. So I pick work after sending her a quick good morning txt. Brittany says that the barcode on my arm is made of like nannites or some shit that also make a limiter similar to one Chuck made. I don't pretend to understand how the fuck it works but apparently this will be able to reform when it gets damaged, unlike the old one.

The downside to this is I have to master the crazy levels again. I accidently ripped the front door off and had to spend an hour rehanging it. With that in mind there is probably less to damage or stuff up at work when all I do is dig holes.

I jog over to Dave's house, "Yo Dawg, I hear you like holes. Lets digs holes in yo holes. Yo."

He shuts the doors and I stand on the doorstep in the predawn light and wait. Two minutes later the door opens and he looks at me with still bleary eyes. "Are you going to act like a normal person or should I shut the door again?"

"I'll play nice."

"Good, come in and get breakfast while I get ready for work."

"It's a Tuesday, aren't you going to school?"

"Nah, long story but I only have to show up one or two days a week to repeat a paper from last year."

I'm about to ask for a better explanation but he distracts me with large pile of toast. Dave really is a good friend. We finish breakfast and get going. This week is a larger project and we have to go help the Streetwork's boys to resurface roads.

We unload the compressor at the end of the day. I am still dripping blood and gravel from trying to block a 300 lb labourer in our lunch break football game. "I told you being a defender isn't easy."

"Whatever dickwad, I got him the fourth time he tried to run the left flank." The extra leads get removed from the truck and we start loading up concrete sacks for building a curb tomorrow.

"Oh so being tackled into the gravel pile doesn't bother you?"

"Nope." I swap my somewhat shredded shirt for a fresh(ish) one, before fixing my ponytail in the rear view mirror. I see something moving behind me and spin. "Jesus Christ! Creepy much Berry? Why are you here?"

"Because I or rather we need you for Glee. Sectionals is on Friday and we don't have enough people." I'm confused, and it must show on my face because she blushes and adds, "I was suspended, so now we are back to eleven." She pauses and notices my arm. A few deep breaths and she is ready to yell at me, "Quinn, what an earth have you done to yourself. I know weren't really friends but I'd like to think I would have been there to talk to you before you went and did something so, so .."

"Awesome?"

"Irresponsible, reckless, permanent. Pick one." Wow she looks both incredibly pissed and disappointed.

"Well if you think it looks that bad, there is a belt sander around here somewhere right Dave?"

He shrugs and throws a 100 lb sack of concrete at me, it catches me off guard and I stagger before throwing it into the truck bed. Rachel looks horrified at the suggestion,

"NO, please don't disfigure yourself anymore."

I toss another sack in the truck, this is a way quicker system. "I didn't think it looked that bad, unless you are talking about the scars on my side...?"

"Stop twisting my words." This is accompanied by a foot stomp. "Are you going to help with glee or not?"

It's unseasonably hot, my back hurts from getting sacked in the lunchtime football game and Rachel is trying to teach me Tina's part of the routine for sectionals. Apparently Tina has taken her part so I get to fill in the smaller part. To cap off my misery I am learning this shit on the side of the road while operating a stop/go sign.

The radio clipped to my hi vis crackles, "Oi twinkle toes, you're on go once the red car goes past."

This is great because it means it's my turn to count cars. Hopefully after the next few swaps Rachel will just fuck off and I can get back to snoozing while leaning on the sign. Sadly it's not to be as Berry uses the time to tell me exactly how sharp I am and complain she couldn't get Mike to teach me the dancing.

"Keep going Quinn we have two days to get you perfect." I groan, spin the sign back to stop and start from the top. Santana had better be fucking grateful that I'm coming to sectionals for her. Fuck the rest of New Directions, the only reason I'm putting up with the humiliation of singing and dancing MJ on the side of the road is the pay off.

**AN - Dun dun dun. Someone doesn't know about Troubletones.**

Flatmates fat friend is sitting on the stairs blocking the whole thing. -"You gonna move or do I have to get my pokeflute?"

Made my day.


	36. Chapter 36

I have this shit. At least that is what I tell myself. I have spent three days learning the routine, which is totally longer than usual, with Schue's awesome organization skills. I have an awesome bouquet of yellow and orange roses that I picked myself and most importantly I have my self control. I spent the last day focusing on actual dancing rather than just watching Rachel's ass. With the new restrictor system in place my hormones and emotions were all over the place again. Brit did manage to sort it so only internal injuries heal and make me mildly more stable. I pick at a small scab on my right knuckle while the lights change, would have been cool if my flower picking wounds would have healed but whatever. San is going to love these. I park at the rear of the car park and go through my mental checklist again, I know the routine, I'm wearing pretty clothes and I have kick ass flowers for Santana. This is going to be fucking awesome.

This is the opposite of awesome, like total fucking shithouse. My first hint that something is up is Sam. Not that I wasn't happy to see him more that if he is here then we would have twelve. Second hint is Puck not meeting my eyes, like he had done something really wrong. Biggest hint is Santana in her fucking awesome dress, she looks so pretty but it's a black dress and I know I'm wearing white tonight.

I ran into her in the corridor outside the choir room, "Hi um these are for you." I thrust the flowers at her then jerk them back a little before she takes them, "Careful thorns and shit." Wow could I be any less smooth? I gently pass them to her and she takes them with a confused look on her face.

"Ok?"

"So I wanted to be an awesome day saving surprise for you but I think I fucked it up. Like I fuck everything up. Because you're standing there looking fucking hot in that dress and I have some fugly blazer and skirt combo to put on I feel like we might not be on the same team anymore. Which I totally don't understand because this school only has one glee club..."

She is shaking her head at me, with a look which is oscillating between stunned and slight panic, when she glances at the flowers she calms and smiles slightly. "I guess you are a bit behind on news then. Don't freak out."

"Why would I freak? Santana!" She rolls her eyes, "I said don't. And Shelby is here coaching the Trouble tones and teaching your English class which you would know if you ever bothered to show up." Ok that is a valid point. But surely Puck would have told me right? The fucker should have told me.

I leave Santana in the hall and head into the choir room. When I see Puck I get angry. I grab him by the collar and throw him into the wall, "Can't hide things forever Puck." He is scrambling away but I put paid to that with my forearm across his collar bone.

"What?!" he sounds all desperate, poor baby bet he wants to be put down.

"I know bro, I just can't believe you would keep this from me you mother fucker."

He stops struggling and tries to lean closer to me, "I'm sorry alright, I never meant to sleep with her, I just got all into the babysitting awesome dad thing and yea, it just" Oh wow. His lips are still moving but all I can hear is a roaring noise, it comes to a peak when I fully comprehend he is sleeping with Shelby and I drop him, slamming my fist into the wall where his head was. Luckily it's a brick wall and it takes the hit pretty well, my fist, not so much.

Sam grabs me from behind pulling me backwards away from Puck, he tosses me into the centre of the room and as I'm not resisting I end up sprawled on the floor. Everything from my head bouncing of the floor is a nasty blur. I am attempting to focus but it is really hard when all I can think of is Puck and Shelby. I don't know whether to be angry, disgusted or sad.

I wake up on a couch with a blanket that smells like feet on me. I don't recognise whose house this is but it is clearly a boys bedroom judging by the mess and smell. I push the blanket away from my face groaning when I realize the smell is me.

"Want some toast Quinn?" Of course I'm at Dave's house, where else would I go?

"I would love some toast." My head is throbbing and my stomach is trying to eat my backbone.

"If you want toast, you need clothes, we wouldn't want to confuse my dad." I idly wonder where my clothes went as I accept shorts and a singlet off Karofsky. "Your weird ass blazer and skirt thing are in my washing pile, you took them off after drinking a twelve pack then vomiting on yourself." Ah, useful.

Pete gives me a weird look as I take twice as much toast as his son. "Christ the two of you would eat a house in a week."

As I eat chunks of last night start coming back to me, I think Finn picked me up and helped Tina get me to the girls changing room. I do remember her gasp when she took my cardigan off. I really don't see what the big deal about my tattoo is, like if I get sick of it I can just take a cheese grater to it. I don't say that though as my head really hurts and I can't really stand. Instead I just sit on the chair and let Tina dress me.

The actual performance is a blur of muscle memory until we are standing in groups waiting for the announcement. The hyper spastic weirdo's come in third, when the New Directions are called in first place my heart sinks. Poor Santana, I glance over and she looks totally fucking devastated. I wanted her to be happy and fuck this noise.

"Hey Dave, could you possibly find it in your heart to give me my truck back? I have to picking up to do." He gives me the stink eye so I elaborate, "Because it's a pickup truck."

"Yes I got it, idiot."

"Just making sure, because I have to go pick up Santana, in my truck."

"If you don't fuck off right now I will tell you of how she asked me out and we went on so many dates." He is smirking at me daring me to start something in front of his dad.

"Whatever dude, I'll see you for hockey training. Bye Pete."

My beautiful beat up piece of shit is sitting in the drive way. I don't know if I'm happier about the lack of police paint or the large collection of semi clean clothes strewn through it. I find my Carmel letterman and sniff it. Perfect. I hotwire and go because I don't think anyone knows where the keys are anymore. On the drive over to San's I take a surreptitious sniff at my armpits and make the decision not to hug Santana until after a shower. Then as I shift gears my right knuckles split open reminding me of more fucked up decisions I made yesterday. I wrap a dirty t-shirt around it and make a detour to Brittany's house when it doesn't stop bleeding.

**AN - So I'm kinda hoping peeps are still reading and enjoying this. Uni has been kinda slamming me, but I write this for fun. I have a week off and will hopefully update again soon. I just wrote this, so review please maybe?**


	37. Chapter 37

**AN - Remember when I said I'd update later that week? I LIED. **

**I am trying, but seriously fuck uni, especially Calculus and Chemistry. This chapter is hopefully happier and more enjoyable. So uh, enjoy. Also review if you like.**

"So you seemed kind of out of it yesterday." It takes a second for me to realize that Brittany is talking to me rather than herself as she'd been mumbling while stitching.

"Ow, yeah um you're totally right." This is why I hadn't been carrying the conversation on, it is really distracting when someone is giving you antiseptic free stitches. "Hey these look way neat Brit, you are getting better at this." It's true, they look doctor grade now unlike the larger and less even ones she used to give.

"Thanks, that's the last one. You can take them out on Friday. Any particular reason you were all confused yesterday?"

"I got mad at Puck, then Sam pulled me off him when I stumbled my head cracked the floor. I don't know much from then."

She gives me a slightly sad smile, "Not because Santana loved the flowers and couldn't stop smiling all night?"

Holy shit really? I knew she would love the roses but damn. I try to contain my excitement as I reply, "I had no idea." Doesn't work, Brittany rolls her eyes and I feel slightly bad that my happiness is destroying hers. That is until I remember how much unnecessary shit Santana and I went through protecting our 'dumb' friend. "Is the trouble tones continuing now there is no competition?"

"Dunno because Sugar's dad was bankrolling everything, kinda depends on her now."

"Cool." the conversation hits an awkward lull and Britt's is still holding my hand in her lap. "Well I'm going to put this in a bag and take a shower. Can I use the upstairs one?"

"Not unless you want me in the bathroom with you." That's right, her parents are home and they are intensely uncomfortable around me again. "But I do have a present for you." she finally releases my hand and opens her desk draw. She throws something at me and I manage to fumble it into my lap, damn my right hand is stiff with the stitches and it's my phone. I am unsure when I last saw it so I plug it in to charge while I shower.

Fuck I should have just showered upstairs it isn't like Brittany left the room anyway. She turned the phone on and it didn't stop vibrating for the entire shower. So goddamn many messages and missed calls, although yeah it has been two or three weeks with no explanation as to where I went. "Why are there so many from Rachel? Wait why does Berry even have my number?" Brittany shrugs and throws me some clean underwear to go with the clothes I stole off Dave for which I'm very grateful.

"Hey so flowers were good but you know chocolate isn't going to work right?" I whip my head over at Brittany, surely she isn't giving me advice about Santana? When I raise my eyebrow at her she shrugs sadly and her eyes do that red-grey thing that shows she is about to cry, "You're both my friends, Unholy Trinity forever right? If two thirds of us are happy its better than no thirds being happy right?" Ah shit, here comes the tears. Her eyes well up and I just hold her as she cries. I hadn't realised just how fucking lonely Brittany's life must be right now. I rub her shoulders and let her go.

"There is stuff I would like to get done this weekend, but maybe next Friday do you want to have a party? We could invite all the cool cats like Chuck, Dave, maybe Sam. Hey we could even invite Finn and Rachel just so you can hit on her in front of him. It will be hilarious." A chuckle slips out in between sobs. "Yea see it would be awesome."

We go sit on my mattress and she wipes her eyes, "So tell me why you think that would work and why it is possibly a good plan?"

"Ok for the record I totally don't. More like I think it would be a fucking riot and it would totally work." We shift so we are leaning against the wall and she rests her head on my shoulder, "So I'm thinking at the party next Friday you wait until she has had a drink or two, then say something like 'Hey babe, I was thinking you and me would be perfect. I'm tall and dim sounding like Finn but a blonde bitch like Quinn.' "

She snorts and while it's fucking gross she seems happier, "You know that isn't ever going to happen right?"

"Please, I dare you two hundred bucks. It would be the best thing ever."

"I'll think about it. And as far as your plan for tonight goes, Santana's car radio is bust, do with that what you will."

Urgh, why does Brittany have to be so tall? Tall people have large feet, so I can't steal any shoes. Unfortunately I didn't realise this until after the shops were shut so I have nothing to match my sundress and cardigan with. I guess it isn't so much of a hassle as dinner out is the second part of tonight's plan, at the moment I have my nice clothes folded in a satchel. I take a deep breath and knock on Santana's front door. Luckily she answers the door, I am totally not in the mood for a lecture from Mrs Lopez.

"Hey San, wanna go prank Berry? Then maybe go to Breadstix after?" A slow smile spreads across her face and it is like the sun coming out from behind the clouds.

"Do you mean like a date? Because if so that is the most entertaining sounding first date ever."

Holy shit this is the best day ever. I can't contain the grin from spreading across my face or resist the urge to run my hand through my hair to make sure it's still sitting nicely. Her slight wince breaks my trance and I nod jerkily, "Yea exactly like a date. Shall we?" I make a mental note to try and avoid showing my Frankenstein hand to Santana.

It being a nice early autumn evening we walk to McKinley. There are no awkward lulls in conversation but I do realise that I need to start showing up to school if I want to keep up with my friends. The cop car is still parked in the overflow lot and Santana gasps when I unlock it. I smirk at her as I unzip my hoodie revealing the police shirt.

"Yea, we're doing this reeeallll good this time." She starts laughing as I button the shirt and tuck it in. I grab the paintball gun from the back seat and wrap black electrical tape around the green plastic so it will look mildly realistic from a distance. That goes in the thigh holster, and Santana is now struggling to breathe she is laughing so hard.

The single best thing about driving a stolen cop car is speeding with lights and sirens. I restrain myself until we reach Berry's street. Then is full noise as I skid onto the perfectly raked gravel drive. Santana ducks down and I kick my door open and crouch behind it with the loud speaker radio in one hand and the tape covered paintball gun in the other. I stifle my giggles before depressing the push to talk, "Rachel Berry, come out of the house slowly with your hands where I can see them." I brace the paintball gun on the window frame and reschool my face to seriousness. There is no movement yet so I repeat myself through the loud speakers. The door opens and Rachel looks freaked the fuck out.

"Hands up! No fast movements." I line my shot up and make sure to aim low, hitting her in the face could be dangerous without a mask so my first shot hits her in the thigh, the second in the abs. Obviously she figures out that I'm not a cop so she spins while holding her stomach trying to get inside before I can get her again. It doesn't work and Santana is roaring with laughter as my third and final shot gets her in the ass. I climb back into the cop car and switch the flashing lights off.

"Next time you want help try not lying to make me do it bitch." With that I hi five Santana and skid back out of the driveway.

We don't make it to dinner, instead we spend the rest of the evening just walking about after re-hiding the cop car at McKinley. It has been the nicest and most carefree evening I have had since my coma. Close to 10pm we get back to her house. This is when I start freaking out, do I kiss her? I want to and we said this was a date, so I can right?

As I'm panicking internally Santana solves the issues for me. Her lips touch mine and its perfect, like life changingly perfect. when she stops and pulls back I can't stop smiling.

"Tonight was nice."

"Yea, I want to make every night nice for you." I'm being totally sincere but Santana laughs softly anyway.


	38. Chapter 38

**Yo, this has like an in school shooting. Not malicious or nothing, just a warning if it may be a problem.**

Like seriously fuck Brittany, not literally but argh, why the fuck does she think it is acceptable to sleep half naked in my bed. After walking back from Santana's it's a bit of a down buzz to see her in my bed. I weigh my options before realising that I can't just steal her bed, it's too late to go crash at Dave's and probably to chilly to sleep in the back of my truck. To make this even mildly acceptable I crawl in next to her in jeans and a singlet. When she snuggles into my back I sigh, this is total bullshit.

I wake up with Brittany's hand under my singlet rubbing gentle circles on my stomach. As relaxing as it is I firmly take her hand away from my body. "I get that you're all lonely Brit, but can you lay the fuck off?"

Her hand that had been sneaking back around my waist jerks back like she burnt it. The hurt gasp kind of cuts, but I would really like to have one high school relationship without an accusation of cheating especially when I really like Santana.

"So your date went well?"

"So well." I sit up and grin like an idiot. "It was perfect, oh and if you see Berry in a short skirt on Monday, it's not ringworm just paintball bruises." She starts laughing and un-self consciously stretches. I hastily avert my eyes. "Maybe you should offer to kiss them better. It's totally a good use of your day promise."

I spend most of the day fucking about to prepare for actually attending school, reading between the lines of what Santana told me yesterday Shelby only let Puck see Beth after he cleaned up his act. Therefore if I ever want to see my kid I have to act like a productive member of society. Also I got the distinct vibe San would be way more receptive if I didn't act like a Lima loser. Dave takes the news that I'm back to after school work reasonably well when I run into him at the supermarket. He asks about my date and I'm grinning like a fucking idiot, "Yea that's like half the reason for me not to drop out of school." I scratch the back of my head and shrug, "I may not have mentioned that it is impossible for me to graduate."

He gives me a sympathetic shrug and smile, "Yea, but that isn't at all your fault. If you don't end up in a government hole then you can just work for my dad."

"It's a sweet back up plan to being dead and/or gone I guess, I'd just kinda planned other stuff. But yea..." I trail off and he punches my shoulder to get my attention.

"Cheer up, at least you can get the time of day from your girl."

"You don't even want a girl." I point out totally unnecessarily.

"You know what I mean." To punctuate his point he pushes me into the toilet paper display which effectively ends the conversation when the stock assistants make us fix it.

"Wakey wakey eggs and bakey." Monday morning stupidly early has Brittany shaking my shoulder to wake me up.

"Really?"

"Nope." She pops the p and I cover my head with the blanket. "But if drive me to Cheerio's this morning I'll pay for your McDonald's drive through." Her offer seems legit and I can always just sleep in the choir room for a few hours.

Stacey seems chuffed to see me and doubles my meal for free, yet I still manage to eat all of it before pulling into McKinley car park right next to my stolen cop car. I biff the rubbish into the general filth that is my back seat.

Brit laughs and asks, "You really aren't planning on any backseat action are you?"

"It's called putting a mattress in the tray, duh." She walks off to the field and I wander into the school at six in the fucking morning for my nap. My bag makes an awesome pillow and I drift off after putting Brittany's school bag in the corner behind me.

I wake up with pain and loud noises. Like ear shattering loud, slowly I sort out the bang must have been a gunshot due to the motherfucking bullet hole in my stomach. The screaming, crying and generally hysterical noise machine is Rachel Berry. Her face is dead white and she is white knuckle gripping Brittany's hand gun still pointing at me. Goddamnit. With one hand putting pressure on my bleeding stomach I get up and gently remove the gun from her hand. She is sobbing and I can't deal with her, the gun and the bleeding all at once. I click the safety on before dropping the 9mm to the floor, my next step is to grab the back of her stupid unicorn sweater and pull it over her head. With that clear of all the fucking blood everywhere, I choke her out with a nice sleeper hold.

Without her shrieking I can totally concentrate better. My initial idea of hiding the gun and finding Brittany to stitch up the holes in my torso is reasonably sound so game on. The meat and organs have healed but the skin is still pissing out blood. I pull my t-shirt, rip it in two and tape it over the entry and exit wounds. I wipe my hands on Berry's shirt before putting the stupid unicorn jumper on.

On the way from dumping the gun under the filth in my locker (why did I leave perishable food in there?) I run into a flushed looking Brit. "What the fuck did you do?"

"What did I do? Fucking Berry shot me with your fucking gun. How is this my fault?"

"Where?" Her eyes look all angry and serious. I lift the stupid sweater to show her but she puts her hand over mine and pulls it back down. "What room idiot?" She hisses at me. So much hostility this morning.

"Choir room."

"Well that's lucky, it's the only sound proof room here."

Three stitches fix the entry wound and Brittany is stitching up the messy as fuck exit wound when Berry wakes up gasping. She looks over at Brittany who is sitting on my quads with blood up to her wrists aaaand she faints. I get my shoulders nudged until I lie back down so she can continue. The fainting fuckwit comes to again as Brittany tapes gauze over my back.

I groan and lift myself into a chair, "So guess what valuable life lesson we are going to teach you today?" She is still white and trembling. "I'll give you a hint. It is clearly something your Democratic parents didn't bother teach you." She's full on shaking now she noticed all the blood everywhere. I nod my head towards it, "Yeah, that is totally your fault. Also your Dad's because as a FUCKING child in a goddamn Republican house I got taught about gun control." I shrug slightly painfully, "I mean that is the only useful thing my Dad taught me, actually pretty much all other Red values suck but yea. I had a point, about, about maybe not touching my stuff." Brittany waves a syringe at me, empty I notice. "Thanks babe, can I ask what that was?"

"Really good painkillers." She smirks at me.

"Right." I refocus on Rachel, "Why the fuck where you pointing a gun at me in the first place?"

"I thought it was the paintball gun from Saturday. I'm so sorry." Now she starts sobbing like a bitch. Now I understand, Rachel must have come in to sing, seen Brit's bag assumed it was mine and went rifling through it like a freak. Upon finding the gun she again made a false assumption that it was my paintball gun and was looking for payback. I know the rest because I woke up with the shot.

Fuck today. Due to someone's desire for early morning singing all of this has happened by 7:30am and the teachers are starting to show up.

**AN - I'm seriously danger zoning my essay by writing this. Fuck it. Enjoy.**


	39. Chapter 39

Rachel looks like a serial killer, her stupid white shirt is liberally splattered with blood and it's fucking hilarious. She would be more convincing if she wasn't sobbing quietly. Although everything seems kinda funny right now and floaty, like really floaty. I poke the gauze on my stomach nope that still hurts. Fuck, bad call. My finger comes away red so I wipe that blood on Rachel too. She squeaks and flinches away, "Oh whatever Berry, it isn't like your top was salvageable anyway."

She huffs indignantly which is better than crying, "I'll just add this to the long list of my clothing that you have personally destroyed."

"I am fully blaming this one on you." Brittany nods and hands Rachel the clean(ish) unicorn jumper.

"Now Rachel it's your job to keep Quinn in this room until I come back with a shirt for her. Also hide her if Schue shows up."

Brittany comes back with a white singlet, a flannel shirt and a cherry slushie. On one hand this is good because I'm starving and have eaten my lunch, her lunch and attempted to eat Rachel's before realizing how god awful tofu is. On the other hand, "Are you trying to make me look as gay as possible?" I put them on belatedly realizing they are warm. "Who did you steal these off?"

"Thank Sam, this is literally the clothes off his back." Aw Sam is so sweet, I wonder if he knew they were for me. I mean I haven't really had any contact with him since he came back, but he did date me last year and probably feels bad about concussing me at sectionals.

"Did he do it because you're pretty or because I'm pretty? Is he now wandering around shirtless and just like flexing?" Brittany snaps her fingers in front of my face and I focus on her, "What?"

"You are going to have a fun day today Quinn. Has she been like this the whole time I was gone?"

"She is insufferable, she started to eat my lunch before spitting perfectly good tofu scramble back into the box and trying to hide it in my bag." Rachel sounds outraged and I giggle as Brittany retorts,

"Well it is totally your own fault for shooting her. If I didn't have to sedate her at school after her first major injury since the changeover..." She trails off, "Whatever it's your fault." She dumps the cherry slushie on the worst bloodstain on the floor before shooing me out of the room.

Mike's POV

I watch fascinated as Brittany drags Quinn into English, Brittany looks determined and Quinn looks dopey as fuck as she is shoved into the seat next to me. She nearly falls off the chair and I grab her arm to keep her from hitting the floor.

"Seeing as this is AP English I can't watch Quinn this period, can you do it Mike?"

"Uh," I look at Quinn who is doodling on the desk with a highlighter, "What does that entail?"

"Just keep her sitting down, I don't give a fuck if she does any work just txt me if she leaves the room." With that she hands me a bag of cookies that Quinn immediately tries to grab. I give her one as I watch Brittany have a word with Ms Corcoran before leaving the room. There is a tug at my sleeve.

"Can I have another one?" Well this is going to be a long lesson. She eats the biscuit in less than a second without taking her eyes off the packet.

"Are you high?"

"No! Yes? Probably." She sighs and lies her head on the desk evidentially bored with the conversation.

Ten minutes of notes into class and Quinn is tugging at my sleeve again, "Can I have another cookie?" She looks all pathetic so I give her two. The look on her face suggests Christmas came early. She is silent for maybe a minute before, "You know I actually thought I'd be fighting you for valedictorian this year bro. Like I had a chance, because really when does shit ever go right for me? I try to be not gay, end up pregnant. Go to help a sad friend, pretty much die and totally fuck up my life. Now I can barely concentrate and get happy when I get two cookies instead of one, or when Santana smiles at me. Actually whenever Santana smiles. It's like the sun in winter, or baby rabbits or fuck I don't know just everything good." I don't know what is being taught right now. All I can do is stare at Quinn.

"Uh, what?"

"Cookies are good bro."

"No I meant the part about you liking Santana."

"Yea she is sooo pretty, and nice, and smart an."

I quiet her before the teacher does. I'd rather have this conversation with her when she isn't high. "So Tina said you had a tattoo?" It isn't the smoothest change in subject but it does the trick.

"Yea, wanna see?" Her hands drop to the three buttons that she had managed to do unevenly on her shirt and she fumbles for a bit getting one open before just pulling her the top over her head. It pulls the singlet with it and I see bloody dressings on her front and back in the second before I pull it back down to cover her stomach. "Thanks." I nod dumbly, no wonder she is getting away with being high in class, I'm surprised she isn't in a hospital. Focusing on the tattoo, all I can think is white trash. It is the most generic tribal sleeve I have ever seen, total movie street tough trash. Running from left shoulder to wrist is nothing but interlocking swirls and mock flames. It is a total waste on someone as pretty as Quinn. No wonder Tina said it was terrible. "Cool huh?" If I was Finn I would probably agree, or if I was Puck I'd be able to lie well enough for it to not matter.

All I can manage is a weak, "Sure Quinn."

Ms C is walking over to check our assignments. Quinn notices and tries to put the shirt back on, "She can't see Mike if she see's she will have proof that I'm a terrible person and I'll never see Beth." She can't seem to work out the shirt and starts crying.

"Mike, why don't you escort Quinn into the corridor. I will be out shortly to talk about the importance of paying attention in class." Well. Quinn starts crying harder and I sincerely hope this doesn't get back to my Father. I nod and lead Quinn out of class holding her shirt and cookies in my spare hand.

Once outside I manage to dress an unco-operative blonde by bribing her with cookies. I give up after four buttons on the front are done.

"What's with the tears Quinn?" I see Ms C pause and wait for Quinn's answer just behind her. Sneaky.

"I just wanna see Beth. I got this tattoo because it stops me sparkling like a fucking Cullen and that keeps me from being super angry all the time. But I have to hide it because it makes me look like a terrible person. I'm not even a person, but I have to pretend see? I have the rest of this year to play happy so I have to see Beth and make sure she knows that she was given away for love and to be happy, not because I hate her. And now Shelby knows I'm a fuck up so I won't have this chance and FUCK." I step back and flinch when she swings her fist into a locker. There is way more blood than expected before I realise this is the hand she wrecked at sectionals. "I just don't want her to feel unwanted Mike, cos my parents didn't want me and that sucks." I give up. I have no idea what on earth I can say to make her feel better, so I just give her a one armed hug and turn her to face Ms C. I also txt Brittany because surely this constitutes a babysitting failure.

Brittany arrives super quick and takes her off Ms Corcoran. The two blondes disappear down the corridor leaving a trail of blood drops.

**AN - Three things I have learnt this week as a pretend adult.**

**1. Shoes do not go in the dryer**

**2. Teaching other people's (very young) children about the correlation between beef burgers and moo cows is frowned upon**

**3. Your workmates are not impressed when you need to borrow the tape to fix your motor vehicle enough to drive it home**

**Hope you enjoy the chapter. I just wanted to show a little outside perspective on Quinn's transformation. Yay or Nay on the outcome.**

**Have a nice week.**


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